


Choking On Their Halos

by Krasimer



Series: Laughter In The Night [4]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Anger Management, Blood and Violence, Driders, Good Orochimaru (Naruto), Medical Experimentation, Memory Loss, Memory Related, Multiple Personalities, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Mythology - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Older Brothers, Rating May Change, Smart Uzumaki Naruto, Supernatural Elements, Tags May Change, Unethical Experimentation, Vampires, Warnings May Change, Werewolves, fae, merfolk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2019-10-11 22:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 47,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17455460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krasimer/pseuds/Krasimer
Summary: They thought they had been forgotten -- Might even have wished for it. But someone was looking for them.What happens when they get found?And what are the consequences of what was done to them?





	1. Chapter 1

The light filtering down into the room from the small slit in the ceiling far was barely enough to see by.

Even for the eyes of those trapped in the room. Despite how well they could see, there was still so little light to see with. The chill in the air warned the occupants of the room that winter was coming quickly, wrapping around them tightly. The cold was bitter, choking, oppressive and dangerous.

Her name had been memorable, once.

Curled up in her corner of the room, she huddled down into herself a little more. She had long since given up her coat, what little blankets she’d been given, to keep the others alive. She didn’t need them as much, could survive what they couldn’t. There were others in a situation similar to her, they didn’t need to be wrapped in warmth to survive, and they had given up their blankets too.

It had come almost naturally, to her. Her father had been a vicious monster and she had chosen to change to take care of her little brother.

She had been caring for him her entire life. Her other brother had been hardier, more able to defend himself, but he didn’t have a demon shoved into his head. Gaara had Shukaku and she could only hope that her brothers were still together, wherever they were. Kankuro had been a bit of an idiot at times, but he had done his best when he could.

Curling her arms closer around her face, Temari closed her eyes, scooting back from the sunlight that tried to fall across her legs.

Not enough light to see by, certainly still enough to hurt.

And she had been memorable, once.

Her, her name, her family – her cousin was out there, in the world somewhere, and she had to hope he would find her brothers. Sasori was a bit of an ass but decent enough. Family oriented. To blood-related family, at any rate. If he knew his younger cousins were in danger, he would help them.

Their name had been legendary, once. Something spoken about in awe, with respect.

And now, here she was.

Freezing and burning at the same time, stuck in an old basement with high-tech, high-quality upgrades. The walls were covered in glass, something like a baking dish – hard to break, hard to scratch. Her old baking dish set had broken her toes when it fell, instead of shattering.

The walls reminded her of that.

When a whine sounded across the room, her head snapped up as she focused on the blond boy across the wall from her. His hands were bloodied claws, scraping and tugging at the collar around his neck and the shackles on his ankles.

A demon vessel.

Just like Gaara.

He had been there for a while, brought in not too long after she had been. “Hey,” she called to him, her arm stretched as far as she could, her nails tapping against the glass. “Look at me?”

His eyes, when he looked up, were the bright orange-red-fire of his demon. Kyuubi had only managed to break out of containment once and the person who kept them trapped had easily brought him down. A button had been pressed and then Kyuubi had been twitching and screaming on the floor.

The rest of the Inhabitants had drawn back in fear, in anger.

Temari had started looking after him, then. He had only been thirteen or so, and that had been two years after she’d been brought in. She didn’t know how many years it had been since then, but she had a feeling at least a decade had passed away while they were chained and bound. He’d reminded her a lot of Gaara but with a sunnier disposition. Determined and angry, sure, but happier when he talked to those he liked.

Kyuubi stared at her, eyes narrowed, for a few minutes before the orange bled away and the bright blue returned. “Hey,” Naruto nodded, tucking his cheek against his knees. “It’s been a week since he came down. Do you think he gave up on us?”

“I…” Temari frowned, looking up at the light. She had spent as much time as possible asleep, she hadn’t been sure how many days had passed. “I don’t think so. I think something happened to him.” She grinned, her fangs digging into her bottom lip. “I mean, it sucks for us but just imagine him having been killed out there in the world.”

A little further down the wall, tucked practically against Naruto’s side, was one of the few people Temari actively worried about. A human Seer, pale-skinned and dark-haired, his eyes all but blind – forced vision walking did that. The others, except for one, tended to be able to make enough heat to keep themselves alive. Humans were almost tragically incapable of that, often freezing to death in situations that any other species would survive. Naruto, seeing where she was looking, turned and put a hand on Neji’s shoulder. “He’s alive,” Naruto told her after a few seconds. “He’s cold, but he’s alive.”

“Good,” Temari took a deep breath she didn’t actually need and glanced across the room to some of the others. All total, there were about ten people, including her.

The other one she worried about was the Naga.

The large snake-bodied person she had never seen the face of actually worried her the most, honestly. Even a human could generate enough warmth for survival if they had the right clothes.

Nagas didn’t create their own heat.

Much like snakes and lizards, they were cold-blooded. This one had spent the entire time they’d been trapped in the dark with their head trapped in a padlocked box. They had only been down there for about a month, the most recent capture of them all. The spare blankets had been wrapped around them carefully, tucked in as much as possible to trap as much heat as possible.

Temari angled her head up when she heard crashing from upstairs.

Naruto had probably been right when he suggested that the asshole testing on them had only gone away for a while.

When footsteps came towards the door, Temari frowned. Those weren’t his footsteps – she had long since memorized his footsteps – and it actually made her climb to her knees, her hands scrabbling at the wall as she tried to stay upright and balanced while also staying out of the sunlight. He hadn’t been feeding her all that much, just enough to keep her safer to be around.

And now he had been gone for a week.

If she had been fed fully, she probably could have even walked into the sunlight. Right now, however, she was about as strong as a human.

By the time she got as close to the door as she could, the rest of the room had started paying attention as well.

The footsteps stopped just outside the door.

“Someone’s cussing,” Naruto murmured. “Outside the door. Something about not having a key?”

The small pack of werewolves perked up, their ears tilted towards the door as well. The smallest one, a black-furred wolf with eyes just as dark as his fur, moved towards the gate of the pen they were being kept in. For a moment, he eyed the gate warily. The last time any of them had charged the gate, there had been electricity running through it.

The black wolf had spent several days unconscious, after that.

In the back corner of the room, hands bound, the forest fae stood up. His skin was nearly translucent and he looked like he was going to be sick, but he stood. “That,” he nodded towards the door. “Is someone new.”

With nearly-matching whines, the other two wolves stood up and circled around the black wolf. The orange-red wolf with the silver eyes moved as close to Naruto as he could, his teeth bared in a snarl as he waited for the door to open. The blueish wolf simply stood next to her mate, her ears pointed forward. When he whined, she circled around the black wolf and nudged her head under his.

“Can you tell who?” Temari looked at the fae. She was, honestly, amazed that he had managed to get to his feet. He had been away from his forests for too long, at least five years. Whatever happened to him from now on, his trees were probably already dead. The fae turned his head slowly towards her, his eyes still on the door, his mouth opening to answer. Before he could, the door smashed open, shattering inward, and Temari could smell the acrid scent of magic being neutralized. Like an acid and a base, hair into a fire.

She wrinkled her nose, waving dust away, before looking up at the person who had entered.

The woman who stood in the wreckage of the door held up a fist, blowing the dust off of her knuckles. “Now,” she turned to the younger woman standing behind her. “If you could, Ino?”

They were both blonde, the older one had breasts to put any others to shame, and there was magic flooding off of the two of them. Ino nodded and moved into the room, approaching Neji first. A third woman appeared from behind the first, having come down the stairs. “Tsunade,” she inclined her head respectfully, glancing into the room but not letting herself be distracted. “I found more people upstairs. They’re injured, some of them cannot walk, but they are alive.”

It was funny, how reassuring one word could be.

The word ‘people’ implied that they had been found by someone who would refuse to allow them to be treated like shit. Tsunade, Temari watched, moved into the room as well, calling some instructions back to the pink-haired woman at the door.

She approached Temari first, kneeling down to be on the same level as her.

Temari shook her head, waving towards the others. “I don’t know what’s happening here, but if you’re here to help, they need it more than I do.” She gestured towards where Ino was. “Especially Neji – he’s human, so are a couple of the others. I haven’t seen some of them in a while, but Kimimaro is down here.”

“Kimimaro?” Tsunade’s eyebrow rose. “Kaguya?”

“…I don’t know,” Temari shrugged. “I never asked. We just shared first names, some of us have been down here for…Too long.”

“My name is Tsunade,” she hesitated. “I’m the chief of police a couple of towns over. I’ve been given permission to operate in this county – the lot of you have been missing for a long time. Ino,” she turned to the other blonde, catching her attention. “I’m going to want species lists, some of these people are going to have to stay down here for a little bit longer.”

Ino nodded, then continued checking Neji over.

“Species lists?” Temari felt her fangs aching, her instincts rearing up at the words.

“You’re a vampire,” Tsunade put a hand on her shoulder. The anger leeched away in that moment as she realized what Tsunade meant. “If we take you outside right now, you will die. Between the sunlight and the starvation, you’d be gone within seconds.” She turned again, this time looking at the stairs. “Sakura has a handle on the ones up there, I believe, so I can stay down here. I’m supposed to be keeping Ino safe, in case anyone has gone insane from captivity.”

“Be careful of Zetsu!” Naruto called over to her. “He’s been crazy as long as he’s been here.” He grinned when Tsunade looked at him.

“Holy _shit,”_ Tsunade looked like she was going to fall on her ass. “You’re the Uzumaki kid, aren’t you? When you disappeared, you had your cousin with you. Is he here?” she looked around the room, frowning at the pen of werewolves.

Naruto nodded, gesturing her attention back to the orange-red wolf. “He got bitten. The black werewolf was used for it. He’s been here even longer than me.” He shrugged a shoulder when, unsurprisingly, Tsunade looked horrified at that statement. “The guy couldn’t get me to turn and he tried a lot. The bites just healed. Demon vessels can’t be werewolves, not unless they were before the demon was poured in.”

Putting a hand over her mouth, Tsunade nodded.

Temari could see the shock in her eyes. The plain horror, the way she looked like she almost wanted to scream.

“Dehydration and starvation,” Ino called out her diagnoses, settling Neji back down with Naruto. “We’re going to need transport for him, I don’t think he can walk on his own right now.” She turned towards the pen of werewolves. “Are they going to know I’m trying to help?”

“They should,” Naruto curled Neji down on the floor, sliding their combined blankets under the Seer’s head. The last experiment the asshole had performed on him had left him constantly walking through visions – at least he had stopped crying after the first three days. Since then, he had been mostly unresponsive. Naruto had chosen to take care of him because he was the safest option in a room full of people about to fall off an edge. “One of them is my cousin,” he walked as close to the pen as the chains around his ankles and neck would allow.

The orange-red wolf huffed, staying a foot back from the fence.

“Why—”

“Because it’s electrified,” Naruto smiled at Ino when she turned to him, horrified. “The last time any of them touched it, the black wolf was unconscious for a while and Nagato and Konan had to make sure he was okay for about a week.”

Ino choked on a soft noise that was almost a sob, then shook her head and pulled a tube of something off the belt she wore, pouring it on the fence. The spells and electric wiring crackled, sputtered, hissed and smoked, then went dead. When she tested it by putting her hand on it, she nodded and moved to the door, opening it.

Immediately, the orange-red wolf was running out of the pen, bolting for Naruto.

Crouching down, Naruto accepted the tackling-hug from his cousin. Konan – a name was a relief, after so long – followed soon after, her paws hitting the ground only a few times before she had jumped on top of the two.

It was, Temari decided, pretty damn close to a family reunion.

The pink-haired woman chose to return, then, writing something down on a paper. “Tsunade?”

“Yeah, Sakura?” Tsunade stayed, kneeling, next to Temari.

“Upstairs, we have a mess of species – there’s a half-fae who was turned,” Sakura tapped her pen against her notebook, biting her bottom lip. “A half-giant, a Siren, a Drider, a merman, and another werewolf. I have a feeling there have been some other experiments run on them, but this is what I could find so far.” She held out the list when she stood next to Tsunade, then looked at Temari. “I think there’s a case of blood in the squad car?”

“That would be wonderful, thank you,” Tsunade nodded, taking the list from her. “We’ve got her and another vampire down here that is supposedly insane. I have to wonder what a good feeding would do for him.”

Sakura nodded, pausing and crouching down in front of Temari. “This might be a weird question,” she began. “But do you have brothers?”

“Yeah,” Temari didn’t know what was happening, didn’t even know if she had slipped into a dream at some point. If she had, she never wanted to wake up – dreaming of being rescued was so much better than dying a slow death in a basement somewhere. No rescue would find them, there, she thought even as she took another second to nod. “I have two.” She felt tears trying to well up, her eyes too dry to allow for them. “Biggest dumbasses I know, I swear.”

She missed them.

Even Kankuro, who panicked over the littlest things. He pretended he had everything together, pretended he knew what he was doing, but then he would panic over the slightest bump in the road. Gaara was a little better, but he had spent some time deliberately trying to scare them away. Between their uncle following their father’s orders to try and kill him and their father being an abusive dick, he had grown up ragged.

Torn apart.

So he had spent almost fifteen years trying to get them to leave him alone. Attacking them and fighting them and threatening to kill them. If it had been any other situation, he might have actually gone through with the threats – Shukaku was an unkind monster when he wanted to be.

“Would their names happen to be Kankuro and Gaara?”

This had to be a dream.

Curling her knees to her chest, Temari nodded again. “Yeah. Why?” she looked up at Sakura, who was looking at her with a mixture of concern and pity.

“They came into the emergency room the other night,” Sakura pulled out her phone. “Gaara managed, somehow, to get a dagger-sized sliver of wood through his palm while trying to keep Kankuro upright after he tripped over something.” She flipped through her photos quickly, then turned the screen to show Temari.

 _This had to be a dream_.

There, on the screen, were her two idiot baby brothers. Kankuro had bruising up and down his face, like he’d still managed to try and fight concrete despite Gaara keeping him upright. Gaara himself had a chunk of wood going through his hand – back to front – and an expression on his face that said he dearly wanted to smack Kankuro.

Temari laughed.

Or she tried to.

Halfway through, it turned into a sob, her hands clamping over her mouth as her entire body shook.

“We’ve got you,” Tsunade put a hand on her shoulder, pulling her in, slowly, for a hug. Temari turned her head into the woman’s shoulder, still sobbing as she clutched at her shirt. “We’re going to get you home.”

Somehow, Temari could believe it.


	2. Something Found

He hadn’t been able to breathe fresh air for _so long._

With the collar off of his neck and the shackles torn apart and discarded somewhere, Naruto wanted to scream his joy into the darkening sky. After so long – _so damn long –_ he was finally outside again. With his cousin at his side, still shifted and refusing to return to human shape, he felt almost normal. Nagato huffed at him, like he could sense Naruto’s feelings right then. He probably could, he’d always been pretty good at telling when someone was feeling something they weren’t showing.

Konan sat at his side, refusing to shift as well.

He reached out and put a hand on her head, grinning when she turned to look at him. She snorted out a blast of air and shook her head, but didn’t try to make him move his hand.

Naruto looked up to watch some of the others being removed from the house, feeling something in his chest that almost felt like happy anger. His demon purred, in the back of his mind, finally settled inside of his skin again. Kyuubi hadn’t appreciated being locked up for so long, either, but he had grown just as attached to the others as Naruto was. When the black wolf was carried over to him, Naruto patted the ground on his left and nodded. “I can keep them safe,” he promised again, watching as the police officer nodded. He was wearing a green shirt, his hair cut into an odd cap of shiny black, and Naruto wanted to laugh at how bouncy he was.

“There we are!” he settled the third werewolf down. “There is another one, too. Do you think you could keep an eye on all of them?”

“Yeah,” Naruto looked up to see another officer walking towards them, leading a boy who used to be heavier. He couldn’t remember the boy’s name, but he remembered seeing him, once. Back when he had been dragged down into the basement, the first time. Back when he had been bitten.

The green guy walked away, pausing to talk to the one who wore an eyepatch.

They weren’t really boys, anymore.

‘Boys’ implied a child, implied a person who had gotten a childhood in full. The word implied someone who hadn’t spent their entire adolescence in a basement with chains keeping them tied to a wall. They were adults, by law. When the last werewolf was settled down by him, the only one in human shape, Naruto turned his head towards him. “I forgot your name.”

“I…That’s okay,” he clenched his hands into fists. “I almost forgot too.”

“Do you remember, now?”

A pair of oddly colored eyes that Naruto could have sworn used to match looked up at him, blinking a couple of times. “Jiroubo.” He swallowed heavily, turning when one of the medics crouched down to check on him. It was brief, checking mostly to see if he was bleeding, and when it was over the medic handed Jiroubo a bottle of water. She handed Naruto one, too.

He turned it over in his hands a couple of times, just feeling the plastic crinkle under his fingers. The weight of the water was fascinating, for some reason.

If he’d been thinking too much about it, he probably could figure out why.

“They’re saying Kidomaru might not make it,” Jiroubo’s voice was shaky, his entire body trembling. “Fucker yanked one of his legs off, he might not make it.” His hands clenched around his own bottle, the plastic crinkling and smoothing out. “Did – I know there were others,” he paused, the ends of his words edged with a sob. “Did we lose anyone else?”

“No,” Naruto shook his head, gesturing towards Nagato and Konan and the black wolf. He’d never learned that one’s name, just knew that it had been the nightmare that had come snarling and running out of the forest. He and Nagato and Konan had been heading home from school. They had picked him up from soccer practice and he had been carrying his bag of clothes from that and it had been a Friday and he was supposed to have gone home to his parents and done his homework.

They had never gotten home.

“This is my cousin,” he told Jiroubo instead of that. “That’s his girlfriend.”

Konan snorted and shoved her muzzle against his knee. Naruto grinned at her again, then reached over and ruffled Nagato’s fur. “They seem nice,” Jiroubo almost laughed. “Are you a werewolf too?”

“Nah,” Naruto turned to look at him again. “I’ve got a demon in my head. Kyuubi. He’s happy to be out here, now.” He turned to look back at the house, watching as Kimimaro finally let them move him away from the door. Juugo, he remembered that name, Juugo was walking at Kimimaro’s side, supporting him. He wasn’t sure what kind of creature Kimimaro was, but he knew that he could pop his bones out and put them into spikes on his back like an angry hedgehog.

Kimimaro had spent a long time trying to get out.

Naruto had asked him why, once. He had said that his brother had been with him – that there wasn’t a drop of blood in common between them but his _brother_ – and had been hit over the head. Juugo had an arm around Kimimaro, now, keeping him upright. Kimimaro had also mentioned a boyfriend, once.

Hopefully, he would find him again.

A couple of officers wheeled a few crates past, covered in dark fabric and easily escapable if someone really wanted out. They were Dark-Boxes, Naruto knew. Designed to keep vampires safe if they needed to be transported during the day. He hoped Temari would be okay. She had done a lot to make sure he was safe. He hoped Zetsu wouldn’t be crazy anymore, one day. He hoped the other vampire Tsunade and Sakura had talked about was okay, too.

He spotted Neji, strapped to a gurney, and he sat up straight as he watched the Seer being wheeled over to an ambulance.

“You,” the man with an eyepatch crouched down a few feet away, his other eye closing in a smiling shape, going along with the curve of his mouth. “You’re the Uzumaki kid, right?”

“Yeah,” Naruto hummed, putting a hand on Nagato’s back. “This is my cousin.”

“Once we’ve got everyone out of the house, we’re taking you all to the same hospital.” The man opened his eye, still smiling. He sat down on the grass. “Your parents have been called, they’ll be there. Same with yours,” he turned to Jiroubo. “We’ve done our best to contact the families we can figure out, but we need some information to get the rest together.” He turned back to Naruto. “Do you know the family name of the kid with the long hair?”

“Neji?” Naruto frowned, blinking a couple of times. “If you’re talking about Neji, he’s a Hyuuga. He’s a Seer. Whatever the guy did to him, it left him cycling through visions. He hasn’t come out of it since about a week ago.”

“A week—” the man rubbed a hand down his face. “Shit. He’s the Hyuuga Seer that went missing, of course he is.”

Naruto watched as the man pulled out a small notebook and wrote something down. His note went at the end of a list of them, a long list that Naruto could see went on for a couple of pages. “Are you going to call his family?” he asked after a moment. Nagato, at his side, huffed out what might have been laughter. “Because I think he needs to go home.”

“Everyone needs to go home,” the man looked back up. “We’re going to get them there.” He held out his hand, palm down, offering it to Naruto. He took it, shaking it slowly. “My name is Kakashi. Hatake Kakashi. If you need any help with anything, come find me. When we’re done here, I’ll give you my business card so that you can call me if you need to.” He smiled again, sliding his notebook away. “I’m just…So glad we found you.” He clapped a hand on Naruto’s shoulder, nodded to Nagato and Konan, then looked at Jiroubo. “They’ve got the Drider kid stabilized,” he said, his voice going soft. “When they pulled you out, I heard you didn’t want to leave his side.”

“Is Kidomaru okay?”

“He’s fine, now,” Kakashi’s smile went a little warmer. “He’s currently sedated, but he was asking for you. When we get to the hospital, you’ll have to be seen by a doctor, but then you can stay with him until families arrive. Or until yours takes you home.”

“Thank you,” Jiroubo curled his arms around himself. After a moment, he actually smiled, some of the cold chased away by the news of his friend.

Just then, several officers started shouting, followed by a screech of anger that made Naruto’s hair stand on end. Tsunade came running over from where she and Ino had been standing, her hands flaring as she went. The entire house _trembled_ as something happened inside and for a moment, Naruto was confused as to what.

‘ _The Naga._ ’

Kyuubi’s voice was a little bit awestruck in his head.

“I need to go down there,” Naruto found himself saying to Kakashi.

“Not a fucking chance,” Kakashi told him, still somewhat smiling. It was like he was trying to reassure, but it sort of fell short of the mark. “There’s a Naga with a box bolted onto his head. He can’t see or smell and they were trying to get him to regain consciousness – I think he just did.”

“I can help!”

Kakashi stared at him, his eye narrowed. “Kid—”

“No, really, I can!” Naruto stood up, followed by Nagato and Konan. Kakashi shot to his feet as well, standing in front of him. He was only about an inch taller than Naruto, nothing would have stopped him from pushing past the man. “I talked to him when we were trapped down there. He knows my voice. I think I can calm him down long enough for them to get the box off of his head.”

“Kid.” Kakashi sighed, putting his face in his hands. “Fine. Just…Be careful.” He motioned for Naruto to follow him. “Jiroubo, if you could stay with that werewolf, that would be great.”

Jiroubo nodded.

Naruto trotted along, Nagato and Konan at his heels.

Inside the main part of the house, several officers were plastered against the walls. They held very still, not making a single noise if they could help it. Naruto glanced around the room, noticing the spell barriers that had quickly been put into place. The scent of blood in the air told him why – one officer had a nasty slash across her arm and hip.

Pushing aside the little bit of fear that he felt, Naruto walked up to the Naga. “Hey,” he said, quietly. “Do you remember me?”

The Naga turned his head.

The box only kept him from seeing things, from smelling things, and from talking. The spells and bolts keeping it attached to him had been scraped at, an attempt made at undoing them, but it still held firm. His hair trailed down his body, a sheet of black waving with his every movement.

“My name is Naruto,” he stepped a little closer. “We were in the basement together. We’re not, anymore!” he laughed. “The people who were just touching you, they’re trying to help. They got the shackles and collar off of me, they got us out of there. The vampires are still down there,” Naruto looked to an officer to confirm that. A couple of them nodded. “Because it’s still daylight and they haven’t been fed right for a long time.”

The Naga’s body was poised and ready to attack again, held stiff and curled up tight. Like a spring, ready to launch forward and grab someone.

“But we’re getting out,” Naruto told him. “When we get everyone out of the basement, we’re all going to the hospital. We’ll get checked over, then we can all go home. If you want, I think I can pull the box off your head so that you can see things.”

It felt like an eternity before anything happened.

The Naga slowly lowered his body down, offering his head to Naruto. Kyuubi’s whisper in his mind told him the weak points of the spells on it, offered a way to grab and twist the bolts so they would pop out immediately. Naruto hummed as he followed the instructions, releasing the spells first. After they were gone, the bolts went easily.

And then the box fell apart in his hands.

The Naga’s eyes almost closed against the sudden light, a gentle hiss coming out of his mouth. His human-looking part and his snake-looking part were the same color, an almost glowing white, though his tail had a shimmer of a dull rainbow on the scales. His hands flexed a couple of times. “We’re safe now?” his words were a little slurred, his mouth not used to talking anymore.

“Yeah,” Naruto nodded. “We’re safe now. How about we go outside? These guys need to look after everyone else and I have a patch of ground that’s comfy out there.”

He nodded, following Naruto when he moved.

As they came out of the house, Kakashi stared at him, his mouth hanging open. “ _How?_ ” he followed both of them, gesturing for another officer to come over. This one had a stack of blankets in their arms, waiting until Naruto and the Naga sat back down with the other two werewolves. The blankets were wrapped carefully around the Naga, tucked in around his tail.

“I told you I could,” Naruto shrugged.

Kakashi just stared at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is anyone out there reading this? Stuff is about to get crazy.


	3. Breathing Fresh Air

They didn’t know who he was.

They emptied out the rest of the house, they brought everyone outside if they could, waiting on daylight to die for the others. He had been brought out in the arms of one of the people who smelled like they wanted to help, settled down with the others who smelled familiar. The ones he had been kept with, the mated pair.

The ones he had been forced to bite.

Driven mad until he had.

It had been years ago, now, most of his life spent in captivity. He didn’t even know if his family was still around, anymore. The people around him were calling families and arranging hospital trips and he didn’t know where he fit into everything. The demon vessel would sometimes look at him, head tilted, and he didn’t understand why. He had attacked the three of them, had pulled them apart and bitten them and ripped parts of them open.

He had been so scared, so in pain.

Escaping had been something he’d tried to do, before. The walls had been electrified and he had still tried even with the scent of it in his nose. If he could have just gotten out, he might have been able to get them all free.

It wasn’t likely, but he would have tried.

“Oh, hello there.”

He looked up, his entire body tensed as he tried to figure out what was happening. In front of him was the fae, the one who had once been a part of an entire forest. He had been used to smell him out.

A pair of warm hands patted gently at his neck. “You’re okay,” the fae crouched down, putting himself on the same level. He didn’t even know how to label himself, couldn’t remember his own name anymore. He had been bitten as a kid and his family had raised him –

The fae smiled at him.

“Are you going to have a place to go, after all of this?” he asked. The words fell across his ears like sunshine, warm and soft.

His hands, warmly and gently, scratched at a point behind his ear that he could never quite reach.

“My name is Yamato,” the fae continued gently scratching, humming something softly. “I had a forest once. I remember you being there, I remember you finding me. I also remember you trying to get me to leave you alone, something attached to your neck.” Yamato paused, lifting his head up. “It isn’t there, anymore, and I hope it will never be again. You deserve your freedom as much as the rest of us.”

He could argue against that.

“They want to load us into cars and take us to a hospital,” Yamato continued. “And I didn’t know if anyone had bothered to tell you what was happening. I presume they told you where they were taking you when they pulled you out of the building, but other than that…” he sighed. “What they have done to you isn’t your fault,” he whispered the words. “And I will do my best to help you find your home.” He hummed again, his fingers digging in for a moment, scratching the top of his head. The sensation of it felt nice. “No one should be lost for the rest of their life.”

With a soft whine he almost wanted to hide, he slowly crawled forward until his head was in Yamato’s lap. The fae had every reason to want nothing to do with him. He was being kind and he did not have to and until now, kindness had a darker purpose to it.

Another person walked over, a female with a scent of power surrounding her.

The papers in her hands shuffled, a crinkling noise that made his ears twitch, and she crouched down next to them. “You’re a fae, so I don’t…” she frowned, glancing at Yamato. “Are you going to have a family that’s looking for you?”

“Not as such, no,” Yamato shook his head, settling a hand on his back. It was a comforting gesture, done automatically. “But I believe he will.”

She looked at him.

The papers shuffled again, the noise grating on his hearing, and Yamato looked down at him. “Ah,” he looked back to her. “Could you perhaps set some of your files down? The noise is bothering him.” He smiled at her when she looked up at him. After a moment, she nodded and did so, being more careful the next time she had to flip pages. It was bearable, this time.

“I’ve got a list of the missing kids from the nearby counties,” she told them both. She looked at him, then at Yamato. “Of the ones that are in this house, I’ve got all of them accounted for except for one. I am thinking,” she pulled a file out and opened it. The face inside the file was the one that used to stare back at him in the mirror. “That this is the werewolf you’ve got here.” She looked at him, then the file, then him again. “The eyes look about the same. What do you think,” she tapped the photo, meeting his eyes. “Is this you?”

The photo was of him.

Of who he used to be.

With a snort, he nodded. That had been him, once. He wasn’t sure who he was, now, but that had been him once.

“Sai, no given last name,” the woman glanced over the file again. “Foster system child, had a family that was interested before he vanished. You were about seven when you disappeared. The orphanage panicked about you for the longest time,” she sighed. “I’ll figure out someone to call,” she turned back to Yamato. “You’ve got him, for now?”

“I have,” Yamato nodded. “I can help him figure out what is happening.”

He waited until she had walked away, taking her papers with her except for the file on him. “Sai, huh?” he hummed once more. “Your file says you went missing a long time ago. If the dates are correct, you’ve been gone for seventeen years.” His fingers resumed the gently scratching on top of his head. “I mean it, by the way. I know how it is to not know and I would not wish that on anyone. When the time comes, I will be with you as we leave this place.”

Sai turned his head, pushing his nose into Yamato’s stomach. If he’d been able to talk, currently, he would have asked why.

Even without words, Yamato seemed to understand.

“Because being on your own is lonely,” he looked back to the file. “Because being on your own is terrifying.”

 

X

 

He didn’t know what had made him approach the werewolf.

Sai had been with the other wolves, including the one who was in his human shape, and Naruto. The demon vessel had everything handled, including the presence of the Naga curling around the group of them protectively. The blankets didn’t do much to hide the bulk of his body, how strong he obviously was even with captivity having sapped some of his strength.

But Sai hadn’t been alone.

Yamato had only hesitated for a few minutes before following his instincts. Something about the way Sai had curled into himself, had distanced himself from the others even while staying close to them. It spoke to the loneliness inside of him, the way he felt alone even in the group.

With Sai’s head in his lap, he continued petting gently. From the way his breathing had evened out, Yamato assumed he had fallen asleep.

There was something soft in that realization.

The werewolf trusted him, it seemed. Was willing to leave his life in Yamato’s hands, was willing to trust him and let himself be vulnerable around Yamato. His snuffled in his sleep, his head turning, and Yamato caught a glimpse of a scar beneath his fur. From the file Tsunade had left with him, Sai had been missing for a long time. He had been a child when he had gone missing, had spent the majority of his life being held captive.

What had been done to him?

Off to his side, Naruto glanced over at him and smiled. “Is he okay?” he asked after a minute. “I think we’re going to go to the hospital soon.” He looked up at the sky, at the way the sunset was coloring everything. “Once the vampires are pulled out. Tsunade was going to make sure they’ve been fed before they’re put into a public building.”

“Good,” Yamato smiled back at the demon vessel, nodding. “That will help keep them calm.”

From inside the house, a scream echoed through the air. He remembered, briefly, the Siren who had been brought in roughly around the same time as him. She sounded upset. When they brought her out of the house, her red hair was an almost-bloody fall over one shoulder, her hands curled around her own neck.

Following shortly behind was a merman who looked to have been altered in some way, being rolled out on a gurney. The bandages around his middle and the line of stitches Yamato could see coming up his hip were indicative of something horrible having been done to him. The Siren was staying close to him, her eyes wild when she finally lifted her head. The half-giant and Kimimaro were standing close by, watching, until the half-giant stepped forward and put a hand on the Siren’s shoulder. It made sense for her to be upset about the merman, given that Sirens and Merfolk often were closely related.

Yamato watched Kimimaro for a minute. From the way he watched the half-giant, it seemed he and his brother had finally been reunited.

Sai shifted in his lap, but he didn’t wake up.

Continuing to pet him, Yamato kept watching people being removed from the house. In quick succession, they brought out a couple more, but these ones were not moving under their own power.

Would never move under their own power again.

His heart ached, knowing that the only things that could be done for them were funeral rites. The body bags were small, sometimes, too small to be anything but bare bones or children. There would be no happy endings for those families, no way to reunite parents with children, siblings with siblings. There would only be graves for them, maybe not even a visitor to the graveside. Hopefully, wherever they ended up had a Graveyard Guardian – they would be remembered, then.

Dusk settled in and Yamato perked up as he watched the Dark-Boxes being wheeled back out.

The first one out, with the curtain slightly open, was Temari.

She smiled when she saw him and Naruto, waving quickly. The two people pushing her Dark-Box stopped next to them, arranging her so that she could talk to them. They warned her about dusk not being quite dark enough for her yet, then walked away to help with the other two boxes. The one immediately behind Temari was almost horrifyingly silent.

The third one out was rattling on its wheels, strapped shut with spell papers.

“They’ve got Zetsu out,” Naruto muttered. “Hey, Temari.”

Slowly, Sai shifted in his lap, clearly awake now that there was another person nearby. He brought his head up, looking over the Dark-Box slowly, crossing his paws in front of himself. After a moment, he stood up and walked over to her, sticking his head up near her hand. When she looked down at him, he made a noise that almost sounded like a dog huffing out a breath.

“Hey,” she greeted them all, patting gently at Sai’s head. “So I hear we’re getting the hell out of here soon.”

“Yeah, we should be,” Naruto nodded, grinning. “We can go home.”

“They’re calling my brothers,” Temari laughed, shaking her head. “Apparently, they were in the hospital the other night because my youngest brother put a chunk of wood through his hand. Sakura,” she gestured towards the pink-haired young woman who was trailing after Tsunade. “Recognized me as related to them. I just…” she laughed again, then curled her knees to her chest. “I _just…_ ”

She put her head down on her knees and started crying.

Sai held very still for a moment, then pushed his head against her arms. After a moment, she turned and held onto him, hiding her face in his fur. The entire group of them had been put through a hell of sorts, together. It was the sort of thing that would bind them together, probably until the ends of their lives. Yamato scooted closer to Sai and Temari, laying a hand on her shoulder.

After so long, they were all bound to be a little touch-starved. Some of their fellow captives had been held onto since they were too little to know much else.

Sai and Naruto would likely have the toughest time adjusting to the world again.

When Temari put one of her hands over his, Yamato turned to look at Naruto. “We made it out,” he said, keeping his voice soft. Sai had shown a dislike of odd noises, earlier, he was going to do his best to keep the werewolf from having an unpleasant experience in the outside world.

They had _made it out._

Like he had been coated in a sheet of ice, that thought thawed him all at once. Summer danced in his veins once more, the warmth of his Court flowing through him. His forest was bound to be in disrepair, at this point, but he would be able to set it to rights.

They had been freed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yamato and Sai make an appearance! Honestly, tell me if you realized the black werewolf was going to be Sai. 
> 
> Then make a guess as to what might be happening in the story.


	4. Something Waiting In The Dark

He missed the sunlight.

It couldn’t touch him, anymore, it would _hurt._ The thing that had given him life, had danced in his veins as long as he could remember, it would kill him if he went out in it for too long. Especially if he left the traveling box of darkness they had put him in to move him outside. He was too weak, underfed and broken.

He was only half-fae, but that had been enough for him to want to shriek hysterically until they let him run out into the light and let himself die.

Outside the box of darkness, he could hear someone moving closer to him. The blood they had made him drink before letting him out of the house was sitting in his stomach – it wasn’t feeling wrong, it felt too right. The same way it always had since he had been turned, like life being poured down his throat. Through a small opening in the side of the box, one that had previously been shut, he peered out and glanced around.

Outside, he could see someone standing just a few feet away, their back to the light that might have reached him.

“Are you okay?” they looked at him, their head tilting. The eyepatch was a bit odd, but he’d seen weirder things. “My name is Kakashi Hatake, I’m a police officer.”

“I’m…” He felt a snarl curl up around the words, keeping him from answering. “No.”

“We’re loading the lot of you into cars so we can take you to the hospital,” Kakashi moved a little more. “A couple of specialists have been contacted, as well. I know you’re a fae – what Court do you belong to?”

“Half,” he hissed the word out. “And I hold no connection to my Court, now. Not with being turned. Human enough to turn, he was _pleased_ about that.” He curled his claws against the inside of the box, scratching down the sides and watching the fabric shred. “Humans are a curse and they deserve to be ignored.”

“Not all humans are going to treat you like this guy did,” Kakashi hummed. “I agree, this was a shit experience to have. Not the best way to meet people. Your file says you were snatched about six years ago, Haku. Your father was the one trying to find you, according to that.” Kakashi paused when he _growled_. The anger bubbled up inside of him and he wondered if the human would know _why._ His father had been nothing but a nightmare. “Hm,” the man stayed quiet, the sound of papers shuffling for a moment. “That,” he paused again. “That is a _lot_ of protective service visits.”

“Like I said,” he put both of his hands against the opening, closing it once more. “Humans deserve to be ignored, to live in ignorance.”

He put his head in the corner of the box and held very still, staying as quiet as he could. If they wanted to run tests on him, add some more experiments, he didn’t care. He had no home and now he had no Court.

The man who had sired him had made certain of one.

The man who would live in his nightmares had made certain of the other.

Haku put his hands together in front of him, feeling for the magic that had always curled comfortingly around him. If he could not have sunlight, he would have moonlight. If he could not have warmth, then he would have snow, freezing ice, the sort of power that twined around death. Cold and dark and so quiet when it snuck up on you that you didn’t know how ruined you were until it had already claimed you.

Ice crystals formed on his fingers and he smiled.

He would become an Unseelie, if he must.

 

X

 

Waking up when he had been cold was always the worst experience.

Every inch of him ached, his skin feeling like it was going to peel off, his scales sticking down to try and contain as much heat as possible. It made him feel shrink-wrapped, like he was going to suffocate. The blankets were helping a bit, as was being in the back of a van with the demon vessel who had approached him and reassured him. The two werewolves with him were helpful as well, putting off so much heat he actually felt warmth hitting him.

“What is your name?” the demon vessel met his eyes, bright blue and inquisitive. He had been chattering away happily, talking at the werewolves.

His tongue didn’t want to move, but he managed to bully it into doing so. “Orochimaru,” he inclined his head slightly, as much of a bow as he could manage at the moment. “Yours?” he remembered hearing it earlier, but he could not remember how the syllables had gone, what order they had been in. His mind always refused to work when he was cold and when he was panicked.

“Naruto,” the demon vessel grinned at him, sharp teeth flashing for a moment, his eyes burning orange. “Kyuubi.”

“How good it is to meet you both,” Orochimaru curled up a little tighter, pulling the tip of his tail in between his hands. Parts of him still felt numb and he felt like he might have been run over at some point. Something heavy and enormous, rolling over him and quashing his ability to move very well. “We are headed somewhere kind, yes?”

“Yeah,” Naruto nodded, turning his head to watch the outside world going by through the window. “We’ve got Gai as a driver,” he gestured to the man in the front of the van wearing green. “He had to get a van from their station dropped off just to transport you.” He frowned, then nodded again. “I kind of refused to leave you alone, sorry. I just – You were freaked out when you had the box on your head and so I guess I just figured it was better for you to have someone sort of familiar nearby.”

“Many thanks,” he inclined his head again. The second person in the front of the van looked back at them and he almost laughed.

He recognized her.

“Tsunade,” he said her name softly. It had been some time since he had seen her – almost a century. She should have been haggard, ancient and withered, but he could still see the young woman she had been. She had started out her life as the daughter of a witch who had lived in his woods, near the caves and tunnels he had claimed as his own. A much warmer climate, so far away that when she had left he had thought he would never see her again. “The spells are keeping you young.” The immortality he had taught to her still circled around her, fueled by her desire to heal and help.

“I was wondering if that was you,” she smiled. “You’ve grown about nine feet since I last saw you. How is the old place?”

“It has been _months_ since I have been there,” he admitted. “I was out hunting my dinner, one night, and I was suddenly plunged into darkness and shoved through a teleportation spell. By the time I managed to get upright, to figure out what was happening, I was contained and I could not see _anything_.” He turned his head back to Naruto. “She is the daughter of an old friend,” he told the demon vessel. “We are, indeed, in safe hands.”

“You attacked one of my officers,” Tsunade scolded him. It wasn’t a very serious accusation, she had to know he had been panicked.

Naruto did not know the teasing, however. “His head was in a box!” he defended loudly. “He was freaked out and in someplace different than where he remembered being the last time he was awake.” He scowled when the two werewolves piled on top of him, knocking him onto his back. “Nagato, no!”

The orange-red werewolf snorted, flopping his tail into Naruto’s face.

Orochimaru laughed quietly, curling his blankets a little tighter.

 

X

 

“Are you okay in there?”

He could hear the words, could know what they meant, but he couldn’t string them together. They each had meaning on their own, each had something to do with something he could barely remember anymore. Something about safety and comfort and warmth. They had fed him, there was liquid warmth in his stomach, and he felt almost like a person again for the first time in years.

He had been named Zetsu, once.

He had been someone, once.

As he curled into the darkness of the box he was being held in, he heard the ringing in his ears. They had fed him fully, had given him blood until he had stopped needing more. It was the first time since he had been turned that he’d been fully fed, his body tingling with how full he was.

And now?

_Now he could remember._

“Can you hear me?” came the voice from outside. They spoke softly and he remembered their voice from when he had been strapped down to be fed in the first place. She had called herself Shizune, had been so careful while he was fed. The kindness of her had been somewhat soothing – kindness wasn’t expected, wasn’t understood.

Kindness was a weapon.

When it was wielded by those who ordered him around, it was something to be feared. Their kindness was a false thing, turning to ashes in his mouth.

_An entire village had died because of him._

His hands, the vile things, clutched tightly at his face. Outside, Shizune kept talking to him – they were going to a hospital. Once there, he would be put into a patient room and the spells keeping him trapped inside the box would be released. He would be kept contained to his room, but he would be watched over and kept safe.

_They didn’t know what he’d done._

He didn’t _need_ to be kept safe from anyone – they needed to be kept safe from _him_. He was the one who had slaughtered an entire village, had made so many corpses of people who had been just trying to live their lives.

They would be far safer if they just let him _die._

“We can find you your family, if it’s possible—”

“No,” he managed to make the word come out loud enough for her to hear. “No family left.”

“Okay,” he heard her nod, write something down, then speak again. “Then you’re an older vampire. Do you remember how old you are? When we found you, you were in a bit of a state. That’s why we had to put the spells on the Dark-Box. Do you remember that?”

He let his head rest against the inside of the box, thankful that it was well-padded. “Old,” he hissed the word out. “Less than two-hundred, though. No family left. Remember the screaming, the attacking.” He shuddered, closing his eyes and squeezing them shut. There was something in the back of his mind, something tugging at his awareness. Something that didn’t like being ignored. “Had someone, once.”

“Someone?”

She sounded so hopeful, so willing and ready to help him.

“Probably dead, now,” he cut her off. “Human.”

They had been courting. There had been a family argument, something about how much disrespect there was, an unwillingness to comply.

He dug his claws into his forehead, wishing he could pluck out his eyes.

_Everything had gone wrong that one night._

Their families had approved a walkabout, had allowed them to go out the door together. Zetsu had worn his best clothes and they had ended up stained with so much blood. His love, the one he had wanted to marry, had disappeared that night.

Taken over by something bigger.

Zetsu had ended up dying, again and again, it had felt like. Despite the time, the century they had belonged in, his love’s family had been willing to accept it. To uphold their relationship and allow it, to ordain it as a marriage to never be torn asunder. He couldn’t remember names, now, couldn’t remember what had happened to them, but he remembered what had happened to him.

What had happened to everyone he had come across, after that.

Whining quietly, he put the heels of his palms against his eyes and pressed down until he saw stars. He missed the people he had known. Wanted to do anything but remember the nightmares he had caused, the fact that he had often been the last thing a lot of people had seen.

He wanted to go home.

That thought was a panicking one, for a part of him, and he startled at it. The darkness inside of him reached out, dragging him into himself.

His body twitched, jerked once, then sat up straight and cracked his neck.

When he opened his eyes again, there was a malicious smile on his face and a darkness in his gaze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh...Hi Zetsu, hi Haku, hi Orochimaru! How're you three doing? 
> 
> Uh, Zetsu, honey...You scare me. I'm excited for the rest of your story but I am scared at the same time.


	5. Brothers In (Blood, Arms, Life)

The hospital was bright and loud and all he really wanted was to go home with his brother and sleep.

The nurse checking them both over smiled brightly, his eyes kind and warm. “Looks like the two of you are doing pretty well,” he turned to Kimimaro, taking his pulse quickly. “I think your parents are actually the first to have arrived – we got a warning that the group of you guys would be here.” He frowned at something, pulling his fingers away from Kimimaro’s wrist before settling them down again. “That is actually a little worrying.”

“What?”

Kimimaro reached out to him with his free hand, settling it on his shoulder. “It’ll be okay, Juugo,” he managed a small smile.

He always had been good at pretending everything was fine.

“Your pulse is a little elevated,” the nurse explained. “And then it skipped a few beats – I think, and I am sorry about this, but I think I’m going to suggest you stay overnight for observation. The both of you might want to do that, but I am going to insist on it for your brother,” he aimed the last part at Juugo, his smile still calm. “But your family is here. Your mothers should be sitting in the waiting room, actually. If the two of you could actually get into your beds, I can go snag them and bring them in.”

Juugo nodded, feeling something go tight in his chest.

Everything had been a blur.

Time had rushed together and blurred and pulled apart and he had been in their childhood home and then he had been in a basement and now he was in the hospital. Kimimaro’s hand was on his shoulder again and when he looked up, the nurse had left the room.

“Jiroubo was telling me a bit about what happened to you,” he whispered. “Upstairs sounds like it was a lot worse than downstairs.” He dragged Juugo into a hug.

Suddenly, they were children again, playing hide and seek and giggling in the dark.

When he opened his eyes, his hands were on Kimimaro’s back, fingers curled tightly in his shirt. The hospital room was sudden, bright and glaring against his sight. “I think something is _wrong_ ,” he whispered.

They had never been apart for so long, before.

From the time they had been adopted to the time they had been kidnapped, they had spent almost every waking moment together. Kimimaro was almost two months older than him, but always smaller, always more delicate. His immune system had been shit, when he was a kid, but he had grown past it and become capable of surviving on his own.

The hospital had to be an old nightmare come back, for him.

His thoughts were all over the place, dragging against the inside of his skull like his brain had been removed and they were just floating freely around. Pulling back from the hug, Kimimaro frowned, putting a few fingers against his neck. His hands were freezing, like he was carved from ice. He hadn’t been that cold since he had nearly died, when he was nine. He’d been sick again, badly, and their moms hadn’t been sure he would survive. Juugo remembered the house being cold and quiet and he hated the silence.

“Juugo,” Kimimaro’s voice was distant, like he was miles away. Why was he so far away? “Juugo, I’m right here, hold still,” he felt hands on his chest, pushing him back until he was lying down.

Distant.

Everything was so far away and he couldn’t reach anything.

When he was aware of things again, they had been moved to a new room. There were straps across his chest and legs, keeping him pinned to the bed. Looking up revealed a room with softer lights, points of soft light that didn’t burn into his mind. He could breathe, again.

“You freaked out,” Kimimaro’s voice was next to him.

When Juugo turned, his brother was watching him with concern in his eyes. “What did I do?” he paused, taking in the sore, bone-deep ache of his knuckles. “Did I hurt someone?” the panic flashed in his chest, his breath catching. “Oh, gods, who did I hurt?”

“Hey, it’s okay!” Kimimaro grabbed one of his hands with both of his own. “Juugo, you didn’t hurt _anyone_!” he settled back in his chair, his eyes wide.

Juugo remembered hurting someone before, a flare of his temper and anger at them attacking his brother and his too-large palm against their head. He’d pushed a much smaller boy against the wall, spitting anger and watching as he dropped to the floor. No one had said anything about Kimimaro, after that, and a lot of people had avoided Juugo afterwards. Their moms had sent him to anger management, too. “I didn’t?” He had been afraid of his heritage for ages, the half-giant part of him roiling just under the surface.

“No,” Kimimaro laughed a little. “But I think I know a little bit about what that _asshole_ did to you.”

He couldn’t remember anything about it except for the pain and the bright lights. The clinically-clean state of the Quiet Room. “Are you okay?”

Kimimaro nodded. “Yeah. They took an x-ray of my chest – it looks like my lungs are fine, I probably just didn’t do too well breathing in the air in that basement. They think the combination of low ventilation and dust sort of messed up my breathing and I’ve got much better blood pressure now that I’m not panicking.”

“Your heart skipped.”

“And they have spent the last hour, making me be separated from my little brother, checking me over.” He laughed again, scrubbing at his eyes for a second. “Juugo, I thought you were going to die. We just got out, you’re not allowed to do that.”

His brother was going to be okay.

That was something he could latch onto, something he could focus on. Kimimaro was okay and he was going to stay that way if Juugo had a say in it. They had spent five out of the last eight years separated, had missed out on so much of their lives. Kimimaro had been set to graduate in Honors classes, with some of the best grades in the entire school and a boyfriend who had been practically the light of his life.

That information stopped Juugo cold. What had happened to Sakon? Had he moved on? What if he hadn’t actually cared all that much when Kimimaro had disappeared?

With a frown, he moved past it for now.

Now that they were out, they could go home. “Where are our moms?”

“Out in the hallway,” Kimimaro looked towards the door. “They wanted me to be here when you woke up.” He took his hands back and tucked them under his thighs, on the edge of the chair. “They cried over you – me too, but you were the one they thought was dying.” He shrugged a shoulder. “I’m not the one who suddenly had a fever of one-hundred and _ten_ in the space of a few seconds.”

“Wait,” Juugo blinked a couple of times. “Do they know what caused it?”

“I mean,” Kimimaro sighed. “I think I have a _theory_ – the fever only came when you freaked out about me being okay. After the nurse said my heart rate was being weird.”

Wanting to hide his face in his hands was a difficult reaction when he could only manage to close his eyes to try and hide. “Are you seriously telling me,” Juugo groaned, frustrated. “That not only are my previous anger issues back, but they’re _somehow worse_ now?”

The look on Kimimaro’s face was only a few shades off from how he had smiled, once. “Looks like.”

He seriously wanted to just…

Ugh.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Juugo told his brother, almost laughing when he realized how true it was.

It seemed like the nightmare was finally over.

If they could survive the aftermath, that would be even better.

 

X

 

They had banished him from his brother’s room, for now.

With Juugo finally actually sleeping, Kimimaro had been assigned a different room – next door, not too far away. In the meantime, however, he was allowed to check in with some of the others who had come out of the same nightmare as him. Tayuya had been with Suigetsu, curled up at his bedside as he stayed unconscious. Jiroubo had been with Kidomaru, refusing to move an inch from the Drider’s side.

Checking in with his old friends had been nice, though it was somewhat horrifying to know they had been pulled into the same nightmare as him.

Right now, however, he was staring at the phone in his room. One of his mothers was watching him, her eyebrow raised. “Kimimaro?” she asked after about five minutes of watching him watch the phone. “Is something going to make the phone attack you?”

He blinked a couple of times, turning to look at her. “No,” he shook his head. Mother One was Rumi, elegant despite the fact that he could tell she had been panicked to be called to the hospital at such an odd time of the day – the clock on the wall told him it was nearing nine at night – and she looked less held-together than he remembered. That happened, he supposed, when your sons reappeared after almost a decade missing. “I’m trying to decide if I should try and make a call.”

“Ah,” Rumi moved her chair a little closer, putting her hand on the edge of his bed. He had finally given in and curled up under the blankets, wearing the weird pajamas they had given him. “I think I know what call you would be making.”

Yes, she probably did.

“I just…” Kimimaro frowned, putting a hand on the receiver. “What if he moved on, by now?” he felt a wave of nausea rising in him. “Should I even call him? It has been eight years.”

“My little bone-Maro,” Rumi put her hands on his cheeks, making him meet her eyes. The nickname made him smile, just a little. He’d had to have a transplant, when he was little, and that had been one of the biggest steps towards his immune system finally working. “From what I remember, Sakon was completely gone over you. He spent so much time with you that we debated offering him the spare room, just so he could always be close by if he wanted.”

Kimimaro had to shove the wave of happiness that statement brought to him away. “But what if he moved on? It’s not like we broke up, I just…Disappeared. Without reason, without warning.”

“Honey, you were _kidnapped!_ ”

Mother Two.

Where Rumi was elegant and refined, like a particularly satisfied cat, Yana was wild hair and vibrant colors, loud noises and a smile that almost screamed ‘Dangerous’. They were a case study in Opposites Attract and he smiled when they both stood in front of him.

“It isn’t like you dropped him and ran away,” Yana frowned as she sat down next to Rumi. “You got taken away by someone.”

Next to her, Rumi shifted in her seat and grabbed the phone, already dialing something. Holding it to her ear, she looked over at him. The warning of panic in his gut had always been a reliable way of telling when she was doing something that would lead to him either being embarrassed or really happy.

Sometimes both.

“Ah, yes,” she smiled at him. “This is Rumi Lai. I was wondering if your son was somewhere nearby and if I could perhaps speak with him.”

The side of the conversation he could hear was doing absolutely nothing for the panic in his stomach.  

“Oh, that would be wonderful, Maia.”

Maia.

Kimimaro felt the burning flush across his cheeks, almost scrabbling across the bed to try and pull the phone away from his mother before she could continue speaking. Maia was what she had called the mother of Sakon and Ukon. Her full first name was Maialynn and from the very first, she and Rumi had been fairly good friends.

Rumi simply leaned back in her chair as Yana caught him, gently depositing him back on the bed. “It’s okay, kiddo,” she pulled him into a one-armed hug, pressing her chin to the top of his head. “I swear, nothing bad is about to happen. We’ve kept in contact with Maia and Lyle. We know what their sons have been up to.” She kissed his forehead. “We know what has been happening for them since you and Juugo disappeared.” When Yana smiled again, Kimimaro settled down. “We wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you, not when we just got you back.”

For a moment, he thought about telling them what he could do now, the results of the experiments he had been forced into.

“Sakon?” Rumi’s voice cracked, just the tiniest bit. “I was wondering if you would like to come meet us at the hospital. Something has changed, Yana and I would like it if you were here.” She listened for a minute, then nodded. Pressing the headset against her chest, she looked at Yana. “Are we going to be here for a while?”

“Yeah,” Yana nodded, ruffling Kimimaro’s hair. He almost felt like a kid again, little enough to be watched over by his mothers as he stayed in the hospital again. “Not going anywhere for a while.”

“Yes, we will be,” Rumi smiled, leaning forward to put her hand on Kimimaro’s. “We have some news.”

Telling them could wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope someone out there likes this story.
> 
> Also -- Juugo and Kimimaro have some issues. You'll see what they are eventually.


	6. Devotion (Time Spent)

The horror was a choking thing.

Like she had been put into a situation made of her worst nightmares, like time itself had slowed down and everything was a frame a minute and she was being made to live it all slowly. Between the experiments that had been run on her and the people she had lost, everything hurt. Her eyes, her hands, her skin, her hair – all of her was in pain and she couldn’t make it stop.

Her voice had been altered.

Before, she had been a Siren. Her voice had been her identity, had been what had singled her out in the world. Her mother had been so proud of her, her dad had laughed and praised her, when she had gotten an award for her singing. She had been in competitions since she was little, had learned to accompany herself on a flute. On a keyboard. On a cello. Every instrument she laid her hands on, she took to like she had been a fish in water.

But now, her voice felt like an intrusion.

Her body felt like a warped and broken thing, her hands turned to claws, her throat ripped open again and again in the course of the experiments that had been done. Screaming and singing had become the same thing, at one point, and they had never gone back to being separate.

The hospital they had put her in was a staggering mess of noises, lights and sounds and people.

There hadn’t been that many people around her since she had been little. Her mother and her had both preferred solitude, quiet and calm. Their music had been the only noise they’d needed.

Now she didn’t even have that.

She’d been made an orphan, in the time she had been taken. Nine years spent as a captive, as a haunting echo of a story, of a legend. The siren who was captured and held captive, forced to sing to survive. The legends had never prepared her, in the time her mother had used them as bedtime stories, for the reality of it.

The way her body didn’t feel like hers, anymore.

The ways her hands trembled and her skin burned and how alone she had felt.

Her father had died when she was little, a Selkie who had been dashed against the rocks. His fur had been returned to him by her mother, a Siren who had crept up on him after finding it on the beach. The tide had taken it from him, had delivered it neatly to her.

And now they were both gone.

His body had washed up on the shore of the beach when she had been twelve. By the time she had been taken away, she had been missing him for three years.

Her mother’s death record had been found when the police had attempted to call her family to come get her and take her home. The official cause of death had been listed as natural causes but she knew the truth – a Siren should never be alone. In the wild, they had siblings upon siblings, an entire choir to sing with. Her mother’s sisters had been hunted, had been taken as wives and had allowed themselves to be taken back by the sea.

Her mother had willingly left the waters and joined her husband on the edge of it.

And now they were both _gone._

She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders heaving with the sobs she couldn’t make be heard anymore. That had been the first step once the bastard had realized she wasn’t going to make it easy for him. His knives had been tempered by fire, had been drawn across her vocal cords until she had been silenced.

She could still scream.

There was no other voice for her, now, not without her instruments. Her music would have to be her voice, if she could ever get home to find them.

Would home still be there, even? Her mother had died and ownership would have had to pass to her. Her father had died, her mother had died, and she was the only one left. And that wasn’t even factoring in that she might have been considered dead as well, like her parents. Her hands hurt but she kept them pressed over her eyes, trying to block out the world.

Maybe if she couldn’t see it, she could ignore it for a time.

“Hey,” a hand dropped to her shoulder. When she looked up, she saw the merman that had shared the room with her. His face was pale, the wheelchair he sat in creaking gently when he shifted slightly. He had introduced himself when he had been put into the room with her – his name was Suigetsu. She remembered that.

She would never forget the way he had screamed.

“Are you okay?” he swallowed as she looked at him, his eyes wide as he studied her. It was a harmless sort of studying, like he actually cared about the answer. “I…Probably a stupid question to ask.” He folded his hands in his lap. “I heard them talking, earlier. Your mom is…” he shrugged. “Anyway.” Suigetsu turned and reached towards the other bed in the room. From the bag he picked up, he had apparently been in the room for a while before he had gotten her attention. Long enough to wheel across the floor and set a bag down, at any rate.

“I figured you would want some of this stuff,” he held up the bag. “It’s some shitty movies and a few weird books. I remember – Well, before…” he gestured at his own throat. “You mentioned a couple of books. And—and some movies.”

Suigetsu set the bag down in his lap when she didn’t respond in any way. “I had the people who are sort of guarding us get them. Some of them belong to the hospital, but some of them were personal belongings – I think a couple might have been bought? Just for you?” he shifted the chair a little closer, clumsy and awkward. “I mean…We’ve been in the hospital a couple of days, now.”

She looked at him, watching every twitching movement he made.

There was frustration on his face, the cause of it probably the chair they had him in. With the ‘surgeries’ that had been done to his legs, she was surprised he was even conscious. He was a different type of merman, one of the ones that had an actual tail. Sort of. The scales that had shimmered brilliantly when he’d first been shoved into the room with her had been beautiful and had covered his legs like he was wearing tights.

The webbed toes had been interesting as well.

Now he had none of that.

The scales had been peeled off, the webbing had been cut, and it was only the fact that he didn’t need his gills to breathe that they hadn’t been sewn shut.

They had been whole people, once.

She buried her face in her hands again, wishing she could wake up from a nightmare and be held by her parents. She wanted her mother, her father, her _family._ Like a scared child, she wanted to be held and loved and cared for – she had been fifteen when she had been captured and she could liken herself to the legends all she liked, but it wouldn’t change the truth of things.

She had still just been a scared child.

 

X

 

Her name was Tayuya.

That was what he remembered about her, first and foremost. Her name was Tayuya and she liked weird science-fiction books and she liked reading recipes when she was having an anxiety attack because the steps made her feel like something could be controlled. She had admitted, once, just before losing her voice, that she liked stupid romance movies but couldn’t admit it to anyone.

For the last nine years, she had pretty much been his best friend.

They had been stuck in the same room, forced to watch as the other was ripped apart or stabbed or whatever other nightmare was happening at the time. His scales had been ripped out one at a time. The webbing that had functioned as a flipper had been sliced off.

He had been made land-bound.

In his family, that was the absolute worst fate. Being forced to never be able to live in the water again was practically a death sentence.

Being stuck in the hospital felt like the worst part of it, honestly.

Wheelchairs sucked and bright lights sucked and he just wanted to go home. His parents were having to travel back across the world to get home again. They had traveled to colder climates to find more of their families, to try and have support. With their youngest son missing, they had been distraught but they hadn’t been able to put their lives on hold for him.

He didn’t blame them.

He couldn’t.

But here and now, Tayuya didn’t have a family to come get her. She was alone in the world and she needed someone to make sure she would be alive in the morning. Sirens died without company, isolation literally killed them. His great-great-grandmother had been a Siren and she had died after her mate had, back when they were still hunted by sailors who thought they were there merely to sing them to death. Her sisters had already been caught or killed, she had been entirely alone.

They had just been singing to the storms that were coming, but try explaining that to a human man who was convinced that all women were there to be attractive to him.

Isolation was deadly, for Sirens.

Tayuya was curled up on her bed, her shoulders shaking like she was going to sob silently until her heart stopped. The bag he held drooped in his grasp as he tried to figure out what to do next. When the idea hit him, he gave it a fifty-fifty shot of it working or her hitting him. Or trying to kill him – but that would still be a better option than her killing herself by refusing to engage with the world around her again. Her grief could literally kill her and she was only twenty-four.

They had been in the hospital for three days and she had spent the first days and a half refusing to move from the side of his bed.

Time to return the favor.

Thankful that his arm strength hadn’t left him, a lifetime of swimming helping him along, Suigetsu wheeled a little closer. With a deep breath, he hefted himself up and out of the chair, flopping onto the bed next to her. The bag of books and movies slammed into his knees and he hissed a few words his mother would have smacked him upside the head for. A wordless rush of air escaped Tayuya as he climbed up next to her, taking another deep breath. “So,” he huffed the word out, looking at her with a grin on his face.

She looked like she had been smacked, her eyes wide as she stared at him.

“You kept me company,” he shrugged a shoulder, dragging the bag onto the bed with him. “You made sure I was okay until I woke up. They told me that you refused to leave me alone when they were getting us out of the house.”

Tayuya’s eyes grew a little wider, her mouth dropping open like she wanted to say something.

He left his legs dangling off the edge of the bed, doing his best to ignore the pain he could feel lurking just beyond the haze of medications. He would be paying for this stunt, later, but he already felt like it was worth it. Tayuya needed company, needed someone to watch over her.

“Now,” he upended the bag on the bed in front of them. A couple of DVDs landed in her lap and he laughed when she hesitated before picking them up. “I got some of the cheesiest-ass romance movies I could scrounge up. I got some weird-ass sci-fi books to read to you – or have you read. I even,” he grabbed something out of the pile. “Managed to find you a stuffed animal.” He held it up for her, grinning like the little shit he knew he was.

It was a flounder, like in the Disney movie.

“I know you’re not a mermaid,” he offered it to her. It was about the length of his thumb, a rotund and striped little beast. “But, well…No voice, on land, bright red hair…You needed your companion, Ariel.” He waited until she took it, then flicked the strand of red that was hanging in front of her face. “Maybe we’ll find the sea-witch and she can give you your voice back. I mean, we might have to beat her up for it, but we’ll do it.”

Her face twisted with tears again, but this time she kept looking at him.

He was aware of the implications of that sentence. He had meant them. He had meant the quiet message of, ‘I will stay with you until you’re okay’. He had meant for her to hear, ‘You’re not alone’.

He had meant for it to mean, ‘This isn’t over until I’ve helped you and I know that will take a long time’.

When they had met, he had been a weedy fifteen, scrawny and thin. Just like her. The others on the floor with them, in the house of nightmares, had all been roughly around the same age too, but the two of them had been in a room together. A couple of the others had even been friends before being taken.

There had been no one he could hang onto until he had been put into the room with her.

And he wasn’t going to lose the person who had become one of his best friends. Not to her grief, not to her nightmares, not to the sick fucks who had torn them apart for the sake of seeing what happened. So she was an orphan now, so what? He was going to make sure she had family even if he had to adopt her himself.

He couldn’t give her back her mother, the father she had lost only a small handful of years before being captured.

But he could be her brother.  

“Which one do you want to start with?” he asked her, still grinning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope people are enjoying this story. 
> 
> https://i.ebayimg.com/images/g/6nsAAOSw9ZNZkIA7/s-l300.jpg Here is what Suigestu brings Tayuya.


	7. Differing Anatomy

There was something about not knowing that made everything worse.

No News Was Good News and all that, but nothing could compare to the steel-edged panic of not knowing. Not knowing was the worst part of waiting, the insecurity that came with sitting in a room and not hearing anything for a long time.

The hospital-issued clothing they had made him wear was only adding to the problem.

“Jiroubo,” a soft voice from the door spoke up.

When he looked up, he saw someone he had been wanting to see for nearly a decade. “Dad—” he jolted, trying to move everywhere at once. “ _Dad!”_ he finally managed to get to his feet, off the bed, and across the room. Just before he could reach out and hug him, Jiroubo stopped.

He had been gone for eight years. Would he even still be welcomed home?

His dad didn’t seem to be aware of his thoughts, however, and reached out to him. With a small noise, Jiroubo was dragged into a hug. “You’re _alive_ ,” his dad breathed the words out, his body shaking. Beyond his shoulder, Jiroubo could see his dad’s cousin. Choza stood against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest as he studied the other people in the hall. Different families were gathering together, people were finding their lost loved ones after the hell they had been put through.

Choza’s son stood next to him, leaning against the wall as well.

The last time Jiroubo had seen Chouji, he had been ten years old. Chubby and round-faced and quiet. Now, as he stood next to his father and met Jiroubo’s eyes, he smiled. He had grown up, had changed so much that Jiroubo might not have recognized him if he hadn’t been with his father.

Seeing his family was a relief he hadn’t really expected.

A sob yanked itself out of his throat and Jiroubo swiped roughly at his face. When his dad leaned back, he shook his head. “I’m okay,” his laughter turned into a sob, then back again. “I’m _okay._ ”

The idea he had been struggling with since being brought outside and settled on the grass was finally hitting home: they had gotten _out_. They were being sent home, after some overnight observation at the hospital. He would be able to go home – he wouldn’t die in some random room in a house he didn’t know in a place no one could find him.

“If you are okay,” his father’s smile was a faint thing, hiding at the edge of his mouth. “Then what about Kidomaru?”

“He lost a leg,” Jiroubo wiped at his face again, taking a step back. He stayed within arm’s length, but he wanted to try standing on his own for a while. “The guy who had us took it off. Last I heard, he was doing pretty okay, but I haven’t really heard anything since they unloaded us from the ambulance and I was given a room. They took him off to surgery, I think.”

“I can go find out,” Choza volunteered.

“Please,” Jiroubo turned to look at him, a choking wave of relief climbing in his throat. “ _Please._ ”

His father’s cousin smiled at him, stepped closer, clapped a hand on his shoulder briefly, then walked away. Chouji still stood against the wall, watching quietly. Jiroubo looked away from him when his father spoke up again. “When the both of you disappeared,” he hesitated. “We thought you might have run away, for some reason. I thought I hadn’t been open enough, as your father. That I hadn’t been welcoming enough – that you and Kidomaru might have thought I would reject you as my son because of your relationship.”

Jiroubo blinked a couple of times. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Your relationship.” His father cocked his head at an angle. “Aren’t the two of you together?”

Choking on his own saliva, Jiroubo shook his head. “No?!” he blinked a couple of times, trying to figure out if he was hallucinating. Or dreaming, dreaming was a possibility too. “We’re just really good friends, dad. We always have been.”

Chouji had a hand over his own mouth now, like he was trying not to laugh out loud.

“Then why was he always wearing your hoodies?” his dad frowned, nudging him back towards the bed and taking a chair. “He was always sleeping over and wearing your hoodies – and sometimes your other clothing. The size and shape difference between the two of you made it difficult, but he always did his best with it.” He made a face Jiroubo couldn’t quite read, then nodded. “You always made sure he was comfortable. You always got his favorite snacks when he came over.”

Okay.

Jiroubo could, technically, see how his dad might have thought they were together. Kidomaru had been his best friend since pre-school, they had always spent their free time together. With them disappearing at the time they had, middle school aged, he could also see why it might have looked like a couple running away together at first.

Sort of.

And in his family, affection was shown by making sure comfort and favorite foods were had. His dad had spent a lot of time making sure his mom had been comfortable, had been happy.

“We…” Jiroubo sat back a little. “I…”

Oh.

This was the first time his perception of his friendship with Kidomaru had been examined like that. To his face, anyhow. Jiroubo put his hands together in his lap, looking down at the floor. How long had he been in love with Kidomaru? How long had everyone around him known?

His dad tilted his head down and met his eyes. “Jiroubo? Are you alright?”

“I think I’m in love with him?” he took a deep breath. “Okay, this is _not_ the best time to realize that or do anything about it. We just got out of the Nightmare House, he does not need that right now.” He settled back into the bed, putting his hands over his face. “I didn’t…How didn’t I—” he groaned. “Damn it, dad.” When he turned his head, his dad had a small smile on his face that he was trying to cover with a hand. “Did you really have to make me aware of it?”

“I honestly thought you already were,” his dad leaned back in the chair, still smiling.

Chouji, standing in the doorway, shook his head. “I thought you guys were just being quiet about the relationship,” he added. “Like you were afraid of the parents knowing.”

Glaring at his cousin and wondering at how easily he fit back into his family, Jiroubo groaned before shoving his face into his pillow.

 

X

 

“You’re going to have to have a _lot_ of physical therapy.”

The sentence stopped him short. “I’ll be okay?” his hands clenched over his chest, staring at the doctor in front of him. Her clipboard was held loosely at her side, a smile on her face. “Wait, seriously?” he laughed a little. “I’ll survive?”

“Driders have died from less before, but whoever did this,” she gestured down to the empty space one of his legs had been before. “Did it surgically. They stemmed the blood flow and cauterized it – you’re going to hate having to adjust to only having seven legs, but you’ll live.” Her eyes were tired but her smile was genuine. “Kid, I don’t know whose luck you have, but the medical complications from this are going to be minimal. I know you’ve kind of gone through some things, but this injury will not kill you.”

He wanted to laugh.

Wanted to scream, cry, laugh, shout until his voice broke and his lungs gave out. His aunt had died when one of her legs had broken – Driders weren’t known for their durability once a leg was damaged. His own siblings had died young, he had been one of five once.

That he wasn’t going to die from this was a _fucking miracle._

“I—” he covered his mouth. “I don’t—”

He took a deep breath.

This wasn’t going to kill him. He was going to make it home. He had made it out of the worst thing he had ever lived through and the stupid-ass experiment that had been performed on him wasn’t going to kill him.

He was—

He had to go find Jiroubo.

The thought hit him like a speeding train – he had to find his best friend, the guy who had been at his side since they were about four years old. Jiroubo had weathered so many things with him, had been by his side through just about everything. Including, actually, getting kidnapped and shoved into an almost-endless series of experiments.

Their friendship had spanned over the course of almost eighteen years, through bad nights and good days.

“Can I go find my friend, now?” he asked the doctor. She had let him wander into his own head. “Jiroubo, I mean. I need to go find him.” He laughed, shaking his head. “I’m going to be okay, I need to tell him.”

The doctor smiled again. “I’ll arrange a mobility aid for you,” she made a note on her clipboard. “And I will tell him that you would like to see him. I believe his family is here, yours was having some trouble arranging transportation to the hospital. A police escort was sent out to bring them here,” she checked a note she’d made earlier. “They should be here soon.”

He nodded, covering his mouth. “Good.” The urge to laugh and the urge to cry was rising at the same time. “I’ll see them when they get here.”

“But right now you need to go see your friend?”

“Yeah,” he nodded again. “ _Yeah._ ”

He’d been in love with Jiroubo for over a decade, since he’d first had an idea of what being in love was. That they had been together through the worst had only made him sure of it – Jiroubo had been so careful with him. Had tried his best to watch over him, had made sure he ate and had made sure he slept. He knew for a fact that Jiroubo had taken to watching over him when he himself should have been sleeping.

A jolt of fondness hit him, then. He had to hope that Jiroubo might feel the same for him.

He was left alone for a time, until the doctor came back with a Drider-shaped wheelchair. Walking with seven legs wasn’t that different than walking with eight, but she was right. He was going to need physical therapy and a long recovery. He was lucky to survive.

But he was going to.

The doctor had one of the nurses wheel him out of the room and down the hall, chattering quietly, but he was too distracted to listen.

“Kidomaru!”

That was a voice he recognized, though it wasn’t one he had heard for a long time. When he looked up, Choza Akimichi hurried his way through the hall to start walking at his side. He shooed the nurse away after a minute, taking the handles of the chair. “Hello Kidomaru,” he chuckled. “I was sent to go find out how you were doing. I am so glad to see you right now.”

“Is Jiroubo okay?” Kidomaru looked up and back at him, seeing the curve of his smile. Choza and Hideyoshi were odd cousins, dissimilar in a way that confused a lot of people. They didn’t look that related until you looked at their color schemes, the shape of them. Chouji had been Jiroubo’s closest cousin, growing up, had been the younger brother Kidomaru knew Jiroubo had wanted. “I want to go directly to see him, is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” Choza laughed outright, this time. There was something so relieved in the way he held himself, something that made Kidomaru believe it immediately. “He’s been asking to see you, actually.”

Kidomaru couldn’t make himself pay attention, after that. Choza continued to wheel him down the hall, occasionally saying something to him, but he didn’t hear it. Jiroubo was okay, and he knew that now. He could continue on with existing. Hopefully with Jiroubo at his side, even just as friends, but he knew what he wanted.

Had always known what he had wanted.

There were so many things to consider, after that. School, family, friends – would anyone still remember them? They had spent so long locked away, far away, from everything they had ever known. It was like a hole had opened in the universe and swallowed them up. Their families still remembered them, that was obvious, but what about their teachers? Their old friends, the ones besides each other?

What about catching up in school?

They were ages behind, about eight years. There was a lot of catching up to do.

And then—

There he was.

Fairy tales that Kidomaru remembered had been fanciful. There was no beautiful light through a window, no sudden highlight of hearts and roses, but maybe there was still a happily ever after. They had been dragged out of hell, after walking through it together. Fairy tales had gotten a lot wrong, but they had also gotten something right: their bond, their friendship, was a thing forged in iron. They had gone through everything _together_ and nothing would be able to rip it apart.

Jiroubo looked up at him, distracted from his dad, and smiled at Kidomaru.

It was like the sun breaking through the clouds on a dark day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So -- Spiders, in real life, do not die from damaged legs. Losing a leg? Not a big deal, for them. 
> 
> Given that Driders are spider-person-centaurs, essentially, I gave them a bit more of a centaur-like anatomy. A broken leg on a horse? BIG PROBLEM. Kidomaru had one ripped off. 
> 
> And yeah, I made the Akimichi clan and Jiroubo related. It's a world where everyone is a supernatural creature of some sort. I feel like I can do a little bit of whatever I want.
> 
> Also: Someone in the comments is thinking along the right track and I would like to commend you. You're getting there.


	8. Split Souls

He couldn’t remember much, anymore.

There had been something else, once, something that had been important. He had shifted to his wolf form a long time ago, unwilling to be touched. She had shifted with him, scared and sobbing, and they had never shifted back. Neither of them had wanted to be touched, be experimented on. There had been knives and danger and blood around them and they had just curled up together, attacking and snarling if someone came near them.

The third wolf had been interesting – he recognized the scent from when they had been bitten in the first place.

But the third wolf always acted like he wanted to disappear.

If he had to guess, he would have said the third wolf was a long-term captive, longer than him and her. The black fur was almost a comforting sight to see, in the room full of bright lights and strong scents that reminded him of something.

She sat next to him, laying along the soft bedding that had been given to them.

The familiar scent, the one he knew was family, sat nearby. He had grown up so much, had changed so much, but his scent was still there. Names had slipped away a long time ago, but he knew his family. Her and him and himself. Three members of a small pack, even if one of the packmates was the vessel for the scent of power. The black wolf was theirs as well, he had decided on the way to the bright lights.

Even now, when they weren’t trapped in the cage made of pain.

Another scent approached and he felt his entire body go tense. Dead blood and cold invaded his nose and he sat up a little straighter, moving in front of his little family. The three of them made confused noises as he did.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the dead blood and cold stared at him. “I’m here to help.”

For a while, time seemed to blur, after that.

When he woke up again, his entire body hurt, his legs sore in a way he barely remembered anymore. His head ached, like he’d run into a wall, his stomach turned as he sat up. His fingers—

_Fingers._

With a choked noise, he sat up a little further, nearly falling back down when a hand landed on his shoulder. “We’re okay,” he heard a voice he hadn’t heard in forever, winding sweetly in his ears. She sat in front of him, a blanket wrapped tightly around her. Her skin was scarred but he still recognized her. Time could not change her enough to keep him from remembering her.

Hands shaking, he reached out.

She ducked her face into his palms, tilting her head to rub her chin against his wrist. “We’re _safe_ ,” she whispered. Her eyes were a bright blue, still, and he tried to speak, to say something to her.

She was still the most beautiful person he had ever seen.

His tongue tripped up, wrapped around itself as he tried to tell her that, to move a little closer and reassure her. They had been trapped away for so long, he remembered that. His little cousin had been a flash of blond ahead of them, walking along the path home. It had been nearing summer, the air heated already, and he had been a rambunctious child still. Time seemed to move in drops and blurs, his memories refusing to stay in place.

Her face, highlighted by the sunlight and her mouth curled in a smile with laughter spilling out of her was what he remembered the most.

He had been staying with his uncle, for a while. His parents had been away for…Something. They had been far away and his uncle and his wife and their son had room for him to stay. He had preferred that to a silent home or a hotel room – stay with his friends, stay with _her_.

And then he and his cousin had shown magical abilities at the same time. In his case, it had been expected.

In his cousin’s case, it had been a surprise.

And then the world had gone dark.

Pain had followed.

Pein had been in pain.

Her hands came up and curled around his wrists, spots of warmth anchoring him to the present. She knew what he was thinking, undoubtedly. She always had, after all. Had always known, somehow, what he was thinking or planning. “Nagato,” she curled her mouth around the name like the shape of it was enough for her, like it wasn’t new in a way. Like she’d picked up where they had left off.

Like the years hadn’t dragged her mind apart in the same way he’d been torn.

When he met her eyes, she smiled at him, still holding his wrists. As he always had, he followed along when she tugged at him, feeling the almost invasive echo of her heart in his own chest. Whatever had been done to them, he could still feel it. He didn’t think he’d ever stop feeling it. Their souls had been played with, torn out and sewn neatly halfway between their bodies.

Half of her was inside of him and half of him was inside of her.

There was a comfort of sorts, in that, but not much of one. Before his thoughts could get too far off track, her palms were on his cheeks, dragging his attention away. “Nagato,” she said again, glancing off to the left.

There, sun-bright and grinning wildly, blue eyes sparkling in the hyper-white light of the hospital, was his cousin. The last time his memories had been so clear, Nagato remembered him being _little._ He was an adult, now, though he lacked the experiences that would make it easy for him to be so. Nagato and Naruto, his mother Nagato’s aunt. Namikazes were an interesting bunch, after all.

His thoughts were drifting, again.

Her hands were warm on his face as she gave him a gentle shake, bringing him back once more.

Konan kneeled in front of him, her hair wild and dark as it had always been before she’d started dyeing it. “Nagato,” she said again and it felt like a call to the darkest parts of him. “Take a deep breath for me?”

He did, nearly choking on it.

Her scent was all that he could smell, the hazy recollection of the lavender-vanilla lotion she’d once used a distant memory. When he managed to make his awareness stretch a little further, he could smell the strange, sharp scent of the hospital and the slightly-wild scent of his cousin. “Konan,” he gasped her name out, grabbing her arms and trying to anchor himself.

She let him, sliding a hand into his hair.

With her, he was safe. With her and with his little cousin, he would be okay.

Suddenly dizzy, he dropped his head into her lap, content to feel her fingers in his hair. The world seemed to pass by again and again, the hands on the clock shifting every time he opened his eyes. He was exhausted and he was safe.

They were _finally safe._

 

X

 

Having a human shape for the first time in several years was a thing she was just going to have to get used to again.

Konan wanted to laugh as Nagato dropped his head into her lap, whining almost pitifully as he dropped back into a half-asleep state. When she looked up again, the vampire – Sasori, if she’d heard him right – was watching them both carefully. “I think he’ll be okay,” she said, the words feeling out of place in her mouth. English had never been her best language and several years as a wolf hadn’t helped.

“Good,” Sasori nodded, then glanced at Naruto. “My cousin would probably be able to help you,” he told him. “He’s a demon vessel as well – I would have to call him here, but I think he would be good for you to talk to.”

“Your cousin?” Naruto reached over to pat Nagato’s head. Konan patted his as well, marveling at how her fingers moved.

“His name is Gaara. I haven’t spoken to my cousins in some time, but I suspect he would be willing to speak with you about how to handle having a demon in your head.” He crouched down next to Konan again, both hands held out and waiting. She put her hand in his and he inspected it slowly, bending her fingers and flexing her wrist. “You’re going to want to have some physical therapy,” he said after a few minutes of silent checking. “But I don’t think you’ll need any reconstruction or anything.”

There was so much relief behind those words.

“Will Nagato need any?” she had to ask, had to know how the other half of her soul would fare. She forced down the part of her instincts that snarled at the scent of dead blood and corpse-flesh as Sasori reached down and took Nagato’s hand in his.

“I think he’ll need about the same amount as you,” Sasori confirmed. “It’s strange – you both have about the same amount of damage, you’ll likely need almost exactly the same treatment.”

He stopped, hesitating for what seemed like a short eternity before looking up to meet her eyes.

She could see it, then, could see the curiosity, the comprehension, the lurking terror. He knew, or at the very least suspected. There had been experiments run and the sick fuck running them had been so gleeful about her and Nagato being a couple beforehand. He’d torn their souls and sewn them back together in a different formation. There was nothing new to notice, so much – she had always loved Nagato, had always been happy to be at his side – but any distance put between them was painful.

At the time, she remembered the bastard muttering about soulmates and fairy tales.

About what could be learned from a soul.

She had never wanted to leave Nagato anyway. They had been together since middle school and they had been happily entwined. He had bought her a corsage and then spent the night of a dance watching movies on her couch when she’d broken her leg and couldn’t go. Konan had vowed to spend her life with him then, if possible, and he hadn’t ever been inclined to let go of her.

There were still dangers to investigate, still things that had to be known, but a bond keeping them bound was not the worst thing that could happen in their lives.

Nagato had bought her a ring, a silly thing from a machine that took quarters, and she had worn it every day afterwards. She didn’t know where it was, now, probably destroyed. She had been attacked, bitten and torn apart, and the cheap plastic ring had probably been crushed or lost.

It hurt, a little, but if she was given a choice between her survival and a small plastic ring, she would take the former.

If he ever felt up to it, Nagato could get her another one.

“I’ve heard that the two of you were penned up with another werewolf,” Sasori leaned forward on one hand, still crouched on the floor with them. He had been letting her watch Nagato, brush out his hair with her hands. It was a simple movement, one she could focus on, and his hair was so much longer than he usually liked it. “Would it be alright if I brought him in here? From what I’ve heard, the three of you formed something of a pack.”

“He’s the one who attacked and bit us,” Konan looked up at Sasori. “But he is _ours._ Bring him here. There were no choices in the house of nightmares and he is a part of our family.”

Sasori nodded and stood up in a smooth motion. “I’ll be back in just a little while.”

When he left the room, a scent lashed out and pulled her attention to it. The door being opened revealed a blond man outside, standing against the wall in the hallway. He was scarred and older than she remembered, but she knew his face. There had been no choices in the house of nightmares and the attack they had been forced to do on him was a stain in her memory.

He glanced over at her, his eye wide as he nodded to something Sasori said.

While the vampire walked off, the blond man walked into the room.

He hesitated at the door, looking from Konan to Nagato to Naruto, then dropped down to sit on the floor several feet away. “Uh, hi, yeah.” He waved, awkward and unsure, then dropped his hands into his lap. “My name’s Deidara. I don’t know your actual faces, yeah. But—” he giggled, nervousness a clear scent on his skin. “But I remember your scent. And your eyes.”

Naruto stood up slowly, bracing himself against the wall. “I’m gonna go visit some of the others,” he said when Konan turned to look at him.

He patted the top of her head when he walked past.

Deidara watched him go, then turned back to Konan. She watched as he dropped his gaze to the floor, submissive and unchallenging. He was asking permission to be there, to be in the room with her and her mate. Silently, she reached out and tapped the tip of his nose.

If they were going to be shaped like humans, they would follow those rules for now. He didn’t need to bow to what he thought her whims might be.

“I’m glad to see you survived,” she told him. She felt like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, felt like she hadn’t put on the right outfit when she’d woken up. Wearing skin two sizes too tight. “When you managed to get out, you managed to take some of our hope with you. You kept it alive.” She let herself smile, watching as Deidara looked up at her. “You kept yourself alive as well, which is even better than I could have hoped for. If they’d caught you, they might have sent you to the upper floor of the house.”

“I think I was only in their hold for about three hours, in the end,” Deidara laughed. “I helped Sasori out as much as I could – he helped find you guys.”

“Our hope was well taken care of, then,” Konan looked towards the door.

Sasori had returned with the other wolf, the black-furred one who had been held captive longer even than her and Nagato and Naruto. The wolf half-limped over to her, dropping his nose down against her knee like he was asking forgiveness. When she put a hand on his head, his eyes looked up at her.

Deidara looked at the wolf as well, half-smiling. “I remember him.”

They were fractured, nowhere near a whole, but perhaps they could be pack in some way. The fae at the door watched, polite and silent, as the wolf he seemed to already be fond of sat near Konan. Sasori watched Deidara, in-tune with the werewolf’s every movement.

Konan continued to play with Nagato’s hair, letting herself just _breathe_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...
> 
> Does anyone want to take a guess as to what is happening? The results of the experiments are interesting.
> 
> Nagato | Pein is written the way he is for a reason. The alterations hit him harder than they hit Konan.


	9. Understandings (Realizations)

Everything had been lost in a blur of images and sounds, phantom scents and touches.

The world had dissolved around him an eternity ago and he had spent the entire time since screaming. No one had heard him, though he was certain he had been with others – Vision-walking was something he had been warned against when his powers had first manifested. It overwhelmed even the most experienced Seer and he had been far from experienced when he had been stolen from his school.

It was like he was in the space between awake and asleep, his body unwilling to follow his commands.

A hand was on his shoulder, the back of his head, his chest, keeping him from falling over and he tried to breathe but his chest was too tight –

The bolt of warmth through his chest stopped his panic.

It had felt like power, pure and almost angry. The heated wind through a desert. This time, when he managed to get his eyes open, he was faced with bright lights above him. After all the time he had spent in the darkness, light was welcome, even with the pain.

“Neji?”

He knew that voice.

When he turned his head, he saw a couple of faces he knew. Had known for five years, had been trapped alongside. The change of location was welcome but the familiarity of them was even better. Temari watched him, a faint smile on her face. Close by, Naruto sat in a chair, looking between the two of them.

A young man who looked roughly around his own age, bright red hair and brilliant green eyes, watched him as well.

“Hey Neji,” Naruto smiled as well. “Do you know where we are, right now?”

“I have,” he swallowed, trying to clear his throat. It felt dry, like he hadn’t had enough water for too long. “No idea.” He put a hand to his throat, wincing at the slight pain that followed. The redhead turned and pulled something off the table next to Temari, offering it forward. When Neji took it, he nodded once before turning back to her.

A third person in the room made Neji raise an eyebrow. “Who are they?” he asked Temari after taking an ice chip out and putting it in his cheek. “I believe you said something about brothers at one point.”

“Oh, yeah!” Naruto laughed. “This is them!”

Temari reached out from her bed and patted his head. “What he means is that these are my brothers, yes. The redhead who looks a little bit like he wants to kill people is Gaara,” she gestured towards him and he nodded. With his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes slightly narrowed, he did look a little intimidating.

Or he would have, if Neji had not been used to his own family.

“The dumbass standing in the back there, that’s Kankuro.” Temari’s grin was a little evil when she said that. Her other brother made a noise, crossing his arms over his chest as well, but the pose only made him look a little like he was pouting. “These are my brothers,” she said again. The edges of her smile drooped and she nodded, her hands clutching tightly at her blankets. From the look of it, he wasn’t the only one who was having trouble with reality.

Gaara stepped forward, taking one of her hands in his. “All of my family is like this,” he muttered.

Neji wanted to laugh, at that. “Like what?”

Clearly a little startled, Gaara blinked a couple of times. “Ridiculous,” he answered. “Prone to tears, at times. There is one and _only_ one exception to that and even he is still ridiculous at times.” He looked at his siblings, then back to Neji. “Haven’t seen him in too long, don’t know if he still is.”

A gentle knock at the door had them all turning.

Naruto stood up, gesturing towards the door silently. When Gaara and Temari nodded, he left the room, making space for the new arrival.

His uncle stood in the doorway, his jaw hanging open as he stared into the room. Despite his father and his uncle being identical, Neji could always tell the difference between the two – Hiashi held himself a little tighter, more upright at all times. The first-born of the two, the one with more expected of him. “Neji,” he said his name like he was going to cry and Neji had to shove down on the urge to do the same.

Family decorum, after all.

It seemed, however, that decorum was thrown out the window in the wake of his return after five years. Hiashi moved across the room, pulling him into a tight hug. After a second of surprise, Neji returned the gesture, his hands holding onto his uncle tightly when a wave of sadness surged through him.

He had been missing for five years.

With his uncle’s arms around him, Neji pushed his face into his shoulder. “Your father will be by as soon as he can,” Hiashi pulled back a little, one of his hands going to the back of Neji’s head to smooth down his hair. “He has a meeting until ten and I cannot even get a message to him until they take a break.” He ran his hands down Neji’s arms like he was trying to make sure he actually existed. “I—I was only home by _chance_ when the call came through.” Tears welled up in his eyes again. “Hinata has been called as well, though I am uncertain if she will be able to come visit you until tomorrow morning.”

Neji tried to speak, tried to say anything, but the words curled up in his mouth.

His uncle had practically defined the word ‘Stoic’ when he was younger. He had been quiet and nearly emotionless and Hinata had been his daughter and almost the opposite of him. She was quiet, true enough, but emotional almost to a fault. The version of Hiashi that stood in front of him was a reversal of the one he had known.

He almost wanted to ask if he had fallen into a mirror dimension.

“Uncle?”

Hiashi took a deep breath. “You have been gone for some time,” he said, his voice soft. “Hizashi has spent as much time as possible, the last five years, looking for you. The only reason he did not quit his job in our company was because your grandfather convinced him not to.” He paused, the twitch of his upper lip in a snarl telling enough without his next words. “Threatened him.”

That would explain Hiashi’s differences. He’d had to watch his brother wilt under their father – Neji’s grandfather was a man who, while not outright cruel, did not care about people unless they were useful to him.

Too traditional to care about a missing son, especially one born to his second-born. “But my father is alright?” Neji glanced towards the door as it opened again, a man with dark brown hair and eyes that looked a little similar to Temari’s walked in.

“Tired, angry, about ready to give up his rights to the family business,” Hiashi settled on the edge of his bed. “But yes, other than those qualities, he is doing well. Our father is on the verge of being run out of the company – our partners do not care for the lack of loyalty he shows to his family and your father’s current meeting is to decide how to go about that.”

Something wild and angry in Neji’s chest settled, then. “Do not have him rush on my account—”

“You’re kidding, right?” Gaara’s voice startled him. Somehow, he had managed to forget about the other people in the room. Hiashi turned to look at the redhead. “He’s your fucking _father_. He _should_ be here. Just because you feel like you’re not worth rushing for—” he snarled and shook his head, his eyes practically glowing a lamplight yellow for a moment. “You’ve been held _captive_ for _five years._ ” His hands clenched into fists. “Let your family worry about you.”

Neji blinked a couple of times, then inclined his head. “Fair enough,” he glanced at Temari, who looked a little shocked at Gaara’s outburst. “May I ask which demon you have?”

For a moment, he thought he had gambled incorrectly.

And then Gaara smiled, his green eyes lighting up. “His name is Shukaku and he is a pain in the ass, sometimes.” He rolled his head from side to side, popping his neck. “Do you know other demon vessels, then?” the other man snorted at the same time as Temari.

Hiashi, Neji could see, had an eyebrow raised as he looked around the room.

“Temari and I both know Naruto. She worried over the both of us, he worried over me.” He gestured towards his head. “I was a Seer before being held captive. The experiments that were run on us only made it stronger.” He watched as Gaara glanced towards the door, where Naruto had gone.

“According to the police chief, Tsunade,” Hiashi spoke up again. “The classes you were signed up for to help you control and work on your skills with your abilities were what allowed your kidnapper to single you out as a victim.” He clasped his hands together in his lap. “They also know, now, that is not possibly the case for every single person they rescued from that man’s lab. Not with a couple of vampires more than a century old, a Naga that could tell you the course of history from Medieval times to now, and a fae who once ruled an entire forest.”

“Old magic,” Neji turned back to his uncle. “Some of us were pulled from a list, some of us were chosen…Almost at random…Hm.” He frowned, looking down at his hands.

“Neji?”

It was Temari’s voice, this time.

“Two different methods,” he said, the horror of it making him be quiet. He didn’t want to say it out loud, did not want to give voice to the thoughts that were tearing at him. “Both of experimenting and of finding test subjects, victims. One well-ordered, thought out, planned. The other operating on chaos, random attacks, people chosen by chance.”

Gaara’s spine stiffened as he got to Neji’s realization first. “Two people. Two _different_ people, choosing victims for similar things.”

“But different things at the same time,” Neji looked at Temari. “What were the people coming out of the second level of the house like? What did the damage done to them look like?” he frowned, shook his head, then nodded. “Damaged. Badly. I saw one of them, as we were coming here. I think. The visions were…Unfiltered.” He twitched his fingers towards his temple. “He was bleeding, stitches holding two parts of him together. The injuries he had on him were so much worse than what we endured downstairs.”

He could practically feel Temari’s horror, even from across the room.

“There are two people running those experiments,” Neji looked at his uncle, then met Gaara’s eyes. “And the police only caught one of them.”

The silence that fell over the room after that was almost sharp enough to cut. Temari shifted in her bed, her brothers standing a little closer to her. Hiashi shivered, his hands clenched in the blanket. “I can get permission to stay here overnight,” Gaara spoke up first.

“Gaara—”

“ _Kankuro,_ ” Gaara stopped him with his name, not even looking at his brother. “If they were chosen for a reason, then they need someone to stay here and protect them until the side-effects and results of the experiments are known. I can stay with Temari and Neji, I wouldn’t trust anyone else to watch our sister. And sir,” he turned to Hiashi. “I would be able to keep an eye on your nephew for you. Your brother and others who look related enough would get identification checked, anyone else will be subject to a list of questions I will have you give me.”

Hiashi nodded. “As much as I hate to admit it, that is likely the best way to go about it.” He chuckled. “My brother, however, is going to be much easier to identify than you think.”

“Why is that?” Gaara looked at Neji. “Looks like him, older, same eyes?”

“His father is my identical twin.”

Gaara blinked a couple of times. “Easier than expected.” He nodded. “Kankuro, I might ask you to do a similar job for some of the others. A constant visitor, to help them stay safe. We would do well to inform the police, but a few extra sets of hands would not go amiss either. Think about calling our cousin and his Grouping,” he pulled a phone from his pocket, tossing it to his brother. “We may need every pair of extra hands we can gather.”

Watching him give orders was fascinating. Neji’s first impression of the demon vessel had been a slouching young man, sarcastic and generally angry at the world. In a matter of minutes, he had transformed from a stereotype of a teenager into a General, of sorts.

Kankuro, despite his initial almost-protest, took Gaara’s phone and nodded. He headed for the door of the room, gently punching Temari’s shoulder as he left. The way the three of them interacted was fascinating, Neji thought. Gaara gave orders like he was used to doing so and Kankuro followed them despite his hesitance. Temari knew, at least, that she was on the list of the injured and thus needed looking after instead of rushing off into whatever fight may lie ahead. With a couple of almost-chuckles, Hiashi turned back to Neji. “I would ask you to identify those you can when they pass by,” he glanced back at Gaara, who was settling into an empty chair between the two beds. “The more people we know for certain are who they say they are, the better I will feel.”

“That goes for me as well,” Gaara nodded. “This is partially my family on the line,” he looked down at his hands, clenched together in his lap. “I almost lost my sister to this, before. I just got her back.” He looked at Temari. “She and Kankuro are the only family I see often – our cousin comes and goes as he pleases and we have not seen him for about a century, now.”

That might explain Gaara, just a little.

If he was older than he seemed, older than he looked, being a General might very well be something that had happened at some point in his lifetime. Neji knew he was a demon vessel, but he had expected him to be like Naruto, for some reason.

Kyuubi had only been locked inside Naruto’s head since he had been held captive.

Gaara felt old, older even than an immortal Neji had met once. Immortals – true immortals, those who could not die – were rare. Neji had met one, once, had interviewed her as part of a project for school.

In short, Gaara was fascinating. Something he could focus his still somewhat fuzzy brain on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I so desperately wish I could screech about this fic with someone. There is some stuff coming up that makes me anxious and I Am The Writer. I wonder how you all are going to deal with it. 
> 
> Anyway!
> 
> Hi Neji! Glad to see you out of your head!
> 
> (Also: If you want to scream at me on Discord, go here: https://discord.gg/RmgTP5A )


	10. Realizations (Family Matters)

In the hallway, Kankuro paced back and forth as he waited on his cousin to pick up the phone.

When it finally went through, he almost laughed to hear Sasori answer with, “What.” Instead of a normal greeting. He had first met Sasori when he had been nineteen, eleven years older than Kankuro, and he hadn’t changed even a little since then. Centuries had passed, Gaara hadn’t ever aged once he had reached his mid-twenties, and Sasori was still the same.

It was, actually, really comforting.

“Sasori, it’s Kankuro,” he stood up a  little straighter, his free hand fiddling with the string of his hoodie. “Listen, we’ve got a bit of a family emergency thing. I’m at a hospital right now – Temari could really use all of the family here and something is happening.”

A hand tapped on his shoulder.

When Kankuro turned, he faced a blond man with scars running along his neck and face. Even with the hair coming down over the left side, it was still easy to tell that he was missing an eye. “One second,” he covered the mouthpiece. “Can I help you?” he glanced at the blond’s outfit, frowning. He didn’t look like hospital staff and something about the way he was standing said he was too confident in where he was to be a patient’s family member who had gotten lost. “Look, Sasori,” he returned to the call when the blond didn’t say anything. “We’re at—”

“The hospital.” Sasori seemed to appear out of nowhere, pushing past the people standing around in the somewhat crowded hallway. He pulled his phone away from his face, tapping the button to end the call. “Kankuro, what are you doing here?”

“You might know about it already, but there were a bunch of people pulled from some sort of mad scientist’s lab,” Kankuro turned the screen of the phone off an tucked it into his pants pocket. His hands he balled up and shoved into the pouch of his hoodie. “Temari was one of them. She’s been missing for a long time. Not…Not vampire long, but long.” He scuffed the toe of his shoe along the linoleum floor and sighed.

The blond man took a step back, looking between them. Kankuro still didn’t know who he was, but he had a feeling the man knew Sasori.

From the look on his cousin’s face, he was about to get yelled at. A lot. “How long is _long_ , Kankuro?”

“Eleven years?” he winced when Sasori’s jaw clenched tightly. “We thought she had just decided to go somewhere else, at first. Occasionally, we take a couple of years to just…Be by ourselves. Gaara used his last time to do that to get a degree in historical art restoration or something like that, I used my last one to find something. We just thought she had taken her turn, at first. When we couldn’t contact her at all, even using her emergency methods, well,” he shrugged.

Something shifted in Sasori’s body language, something subtle that Kankuro couldn’t really put a name to.

The blond man reached out and slid their hands together, tangling their fingers. “Sasori,” his voice was deeper than Kankuro would have expected. “It makes sense, yeah.”

And just like that, the fight went out of Sasori.

His cousin’s shoulders went loose and relaxed. “Yes, it does.” He agreed. “If the disappearance wasn’t out of the ordinary scope of her behavior, then you wouldn’t have known that she needed help.” He put his free hand against his face, stepping a little closer to the blond when someone pushed past them. When the space he had been standing in opened back up, Kankuro noticed he didn’t take it back.

Whoever the blond was, Kankuro had already decided he was a miracle worker. “So why were you here already?”

“Werewolf rehabilitation and the fact that I was one of the main people trying to figure out where the missing had gone off to,” Sasori’s hand dropped and he tucked it into his pocket. “This is Deidara, by the way. A previously missing one of the bunch you’re dealing with. I was going to go see the people I have to help immediately, but I want to see Temari.”

“I think Gaara’s flirting with her roommate,” Kankuro waved for him to follow. “There is at least one person I know of who needs your help right away.”

With a quiet hum, Sasori followed him. “Oh?”

“I didn’t catch his name, but he’s one of the three vampires they pulled from the house. Temari is one of the others, and the third is this poor guy who used to be half-human and half-fae,” he walked down the hall until he found the room. It was obvious, marked with several warnings in bright colors and multiple languages. “I checked in on him briefly, earlier – they’ve got an observation window set up so that they can go in and check on him without the risk of him getting out into the general population of the hospital.” Kankuro sighed. “He was fine for a while on the way here, but then it was like a switch was flipped and his entire personality changed.”

Sasori nodded. “I am going to wait to go in there until I have an okay from someone,” he met Deidara’s eye. “But thank you for telling me.”

There it was again.

“Cousin,” Kankuro felt the old language on his tongue, the weight and heft of it. It moved like cold syrup, hard to remember, but he managed. “What happened to you? You come in, already here to help when I call, you do not scold me for not knowing where my sister was, you follow the rules set out by another, by a _human._ What has changed so much?”

If he had been less used to Sasori, he might have missed the slight flush of his cheeks, the way his posture shifted. “This is Deidara,” he said again, still speaking in a language most people would understand. “I found him and he found me and,” he held up their hands, still joined. “I am the happiest I have been for centuries. It took us some work to get to where we are, it took some compromise and some adjustments and some near-deaths, but are making it work.”

Deidara practically beamed. “Sasori found me and I found him, yeah.”

For the first time since laying eyes on him, Kankuro really looked at him. Instead of the starch-pressed shirts with sharp corners and pressed slacks, the illusion of refined and straight-laced, Sasori’s clothes were a little softer. The sweater he wore was in a charcoal grey color, the buttons undone so the sides were hanging open. Underneath, the shirt he wore was a soft, dark blue-grey. It wasn’t something he would have chosen before – he always had preferred the dark red he had practically made into his uniform for centuries.

Something fundamental had shifted, in him.

He looked happy, Kankuro decided. It was a good look on him, something that had been in short supply since his parents had died.

The last time he had seen Sasori even remotely like this had been when he had orchestrated the death of their father. Gaara had been so young at the time, the immortality aspect of being a demon vessel hadn’t yet entered the equation, and Sasori had been so protective of him. The death of their father had been put together by Sasori and someone else and when the man had been dying, laid out on the floor with a poison in his body, Sasori had been smiling.

The bruises on Temari’s arm had faded a week later.

His name had been stricken from as many records as they could.

With a small smile, Kankuro dropped a hand on his cousin’s shoulder, watching as Sasori didn’t even pretend to flinch away. Something deep and fundamental had changed within him, since they had last met.

It was a little odd, seeing him so different, but the best changes were often uncomfortable.

“Here, come on,” he waved for them to follow as he knocked on another door. When he heard the occupant of the room call for him to enter, he did so. “Sasori, this is the Naga that was in the house with Temari. He was one of the newest kidnapped and I figured, since you said you were one of the people looking for them, that he might be the best one to ask about methods.”

“I will not know much,” Orochimaru inclined his head, not moving from where he was pretty much wrapped around his space heater. “But I will help as best I ca—” he stopped, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of Sasori. “Hello again.”

“What—” Sasori looked away from closing the door behind Deidara to see Orochimaru. “I have not seen you in centuries,” he raised an eyebrow.

“How did your assassination go, vampire?” Orochimaru grinned and Kankuro took a small step back. From how quiet the Naga had been, he had somehow classified him as someone safe to be around. There was something in his smile, right then, that had Kankuro a lot more afraid of him in that quiet place in his mind that still felt human instincts. Something that said the Naga was a predator and he was prey.

Sasori glanced at him, then looked back to Orochimaru. “Better than I thought it would,” he answered after a few seconds of seeming to debate his words.

Oh.

_Oh._

Kankuro blinked a couple of times, then leaned back against the wall. Orochimaru was a Naga. A _snake._ If he wanted someone dead, he didn’t have to stab them or strangle them – he could just bite them. Or, if he was willing, his venom could be collected into a container and slipped into something, coated onto a small blade.

_Hidden on the tools of a puppet maker._

Before he had died, their father had turned on Sasori instead of just his own children. His nephew, Kankuro’s cousin, must have been planning his death for ages. Kankuro’s father had grabbed Sasori’s tools and thrown them, had cut his hand on one of them. A file, if Kankuro remembered correctly, meant for shaping details on a small scale. Sasori had always been fond of making his puppets realistic.

And then there had been no antidote to administer.

The physicians had tried. Their father had been important, had been in charge and well-known, change was feared when he died.

Gaara had been nine.

Kankuro had been just about to turn eleven, Temari had been thirteen. Their grandmother, previously banished, had come rushing home when a letter had found her. Between her and Sasori, the three of them had been put to rights.

Sasori, having known his little cousins for only three years, had been willing to commit murder to keep them safe.

And Orochimaru had helped him.

A hand waved in front of his face and Kankuro turned his head. Deidara was standing next to him, his back against the wall as well. “Sasori is going to try his best, yeah,” he smiled. “With you, I mean. I’ve heard a bit about you guys, the three of you, and he wanted to make contact again. From what he has been saying, he missed you, yeah.”

“He killed my father,” Kankuro laughed a little. “I’m glad he was so invested in protecting us.”

Deidara paused, his eyebrow rising as he continued to stare at Kankuro. It was like he wasn’t sure if that had been a joke or not. “Is that a new measure of family caring I’m unfamiliar with? Itachi and Sasuke did some things that others might side-eye to keep each other safe. I think it’s all part of a bigger puzzle, now, because some things are going weird.” His nose wrinkled. “Is murder a way to tell someone you love them, now?”

With a snort and a laugh that jolted him so hard he almost fell over, Kankuro grinned as well.

It might as well be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And There It Is. 
> 
> Well, Kankuro, I'm glad you're handling the assassination of your father so well -- Sasori cares about his family in his own murderous way.


	11. Knowing You (Changes Take Getting Used To)

The phone call had been a surprise, but here he was, willing to help when they called him.

He was the resident expert on odd species combinations – those unlucky few, who, like him, had been turned into something else against their will. From what he knew, there were several like that, something about an experiment, something about a lab and a lair.

Children, stolen away for years.

The idea made something angry flare up under his skin. In his original home, the theft of children was punishable by death, often at the hands of the offended parents.

“Kakashi,” he called out to the man when he spotted the shock of silver hair. “I’ve been told there’s a case I need to specifically see.”

“There is,” Kakashi nodded, already turning on his heel and waving for him to follow, not wasting any time with anything so useless as a full greeting. The man knew how he preferred to operate, how he hated wasted pleasantries. “His name is Haku. His father is not allowed to be contacted – it would be something like a death sentence, if that happened. He’s old enough to be on his own, at least. Nineteen, if that matters.” He snagged a folder off a table that had been set up.

From the looks of the hospital, the entire building had been taken over and set up almost like a triage center.

Treat the victims of the experiments, bring in families where they could.

It made sense.

“What was he before?” he reached for the folder when Kakashi held it out. There was no photo inside, but there was a short description as well as a few notes about Haku. “A half-fae? Shit,” he sighed, flipping the folder closed as he continued to follow Kakashi. “Kakashi, he’s going to be angry at the world for a long time.”

“Which, if you’ll recall, is why you’re here,” Kakashi saluted him mockingly.

Before he’d been turned, he’d been a merman of diluted blood – his grandfather had been one and the traits had started fading away by the time the bloodline had him to claim. Merfolk were raised as merfolk unless there was an absolute absence of traits. His teeth and the small gills on his neck were some of the only traits that remained after he’d been turned.

“Fuck, alright,” he rubbed a hand down his face. They had stopped outside of a room. “This is it?”

“This is it.”

He shooed Kakashi away, rolling his eyes as he did. “Go bother someone else, scarecrow.” He put a hand on the doorknob. “I’m sure some field is missing you.”

Kakashi chuckled as he turned and walked away.

When he opened the door, it was like getting smacked in the face by a memory.

The room was in chaos, the mirror that hung on the wall shattered in its frame, the beds overturned, the curtains on the blacked-out window practically torn from their moorings. It was a room meant for a vampire and the vampire inside of it did not want to be there, that much was obvious.

“Haku,” he said the name evenly, not even bothering to look around the room. Just like he once had, he already knew the newly-made vampire was hiding under a bed.

He had been in his late twenties, at least. Enough of an adult to have lived a life before one of the biggest changes to it.

Haku was nineteen.

There had barely been any life for him to live, especially with the notes that told him the boy had been under the thumb of an abusive father. Getting kidnapped might have been a relief, at first. Not having to go home to the monster he lived with. From the descriptions in his folder and the anger that had been noted, Haku preferred to not speak about the man.

He couldn’t blame the boy.

A shuffle of fabric had him feeling ready to roll his eyes again and walk out. Haku was hiding from him.

With another sigh, he walked a few feet and one-handedly lifted the bed up, tossing it across the room before dropping down to sit on the floor before the younger vampire could move away, clamping a hand on his shoulder. “My name is Zabuza.”

Haku snarled and tried to squirm away, but he just tightened his grip.

“I know what you’re going through, right now—”

“How could you _possibly KNOW?!”_

Zabuza waited, an eyebrow raised, until Haku stopped wiggling. “Kid, look at me,” he settled the folder in his lap. “Do I look like I was a human?”

Cold eyes narrowed, a deep hunger behind them that he remembered from his first couple of years as a vampire. It would be that way for a while, until Haku gave in and actually started feeding himself correctly. “No,” came the near-snarl of Haku’s answer. “You don’t.”

“I was a merman,” Zabuza continued on like the kid hadn’t answered. “But with my mother’s human genetics and my grandmother’s human genetics, there was enough humanity in me for the turning to take.”

Haku froze, his eyes wide again.

Somehow, Zabuza wasn’t sure entirely how, he ended up on the floor underneath Haku, the boy’s hands pressed against his chest and his forehead, his legs straddling Zabuza’s chest. “Turned against your will?” he bent down, his hair falling in a curtain around Zabuza’s face. “Is it something they told you to say, with their folders and their names and their notes?”

“I’m not exactly in the mood to go around sharing my tragic history,” Zabuza felt his nose wrinkle, staring up at Haku.

He was quite pretty.

From the angle he sat at, above Zabuza, he looked almost like an avenging angel of lore. His hair was dark, changing the way the light filtered around them as he leaned down. With his fangs out, Haku snarled in Zabuza’s face. Magic flared around his hands, too strong to be dampened down by a change of state, a change of species. The ice that built up around his fingers, along the tile of the floor, along the walls as it reached out from the core of him, stung where it touched Zabuza’s skin. “ _Tell me,”_ he hissed.

“I was a merman,” Zabuza sighed.

“You said that part—”

“Do you want me to tell you or not?” he stopped, letting the smaller vampire think he had him pinned. When there was no answer, Zabuza nodded. “Good. I was a police officer. There was a case that went…The absolute worst and the most wrong it could go. I ended up held hostage for three days, trapped in a room with an increasingly hungry vampire. He hadn’t fed properly before the hostage situation, but three days of police stand-off made it worse and I was the only food source in the entire house that he _could_ feed off of.”

“What, no other species nearby, no convenient necks?” A flash of anger burned through Haku’s eyes, bringing Zabuza’s attention to the circle of gold around the inner and outer edges of his eyes. He’d heard that gold-rings in someone’s eyes hinted at fae heritage, but he hadn’t known the brightness of it, the brilliance.

He could also tell that Haku still didn’t believe him.

“The other hostages were a woman, her little boy, and my partner at the time.” Zabuza tilted his chin up. “I wasn’t going to let the mother or the kid get bitten – she was already injured and the boy was about four years old. They probably would have died, if I’d let that happen. My partner was another option I wasn’t going to let happen. I think you might have met him earlier, actually. He lost an eye, that day, but I kept his ass alive.” He chuckled, remembering the look on Kakashi’s face when he’d stepped in front of him and offered his neck up. “I knew it was a risk when I volunteered, being turned. It’s not the same as you, not nearly, but I’m who they call when someone suddenly goes from being one thing to being another.”

Haku dropped back on his haunches, the fight going out of him like a puppet with cut strings. The ice melted away into nothingness, his hands curling up limply in his lap. “It sounds like you’re telling the truth.”

“I am,” Zabuza sat up slowly, putting a hand out to balance against Haku’s back as the boy slid down his chest and into his lap. He slid him even further, onto the floor next to him. “Kakashi’s partner has a photo somewhere of him sitting at the side of my hospital bed – I was roomed about three doors down from here.”

Pressing both of his hands against his face, Haku nodded.

“Kid?”

His shoulders shuddered and Zabuza could make out the sounds of soft sobs. “It sucks, I know,” he hesitated, then put a hand on his shoulder. The boy felt so frail, so small and thin, and he would never gain that last bit of growth that came from reaching full adulthood. Not now, not ever. “It probably won’t help, right now, but it does get better eventually. When you figure out the right feeding schedule, when you learn where to go for night versions of things you used to love doing.”

When his hand shifted, slightly, Haku practically launched himself against Zabuza, his hands clutching at his shirt. He was still sobbing, still shaking and shuddering and falling apart, but he clutched at him like a lifeline in a storm.

He wasn’t great with emotional stuff, but he could try his best.

After what seemed like an hour, Haku finally stopped crying, wiping uselessly at his face. “What’s something you used to like doing in the day?”

“Surfing,” Zabuza grinned. “My merfolk heritage coming out, I guess. Night surfing is…Almost better, actually. There’s something about the light of the moon reflecting off the waves, the emptiness of the beach, the way the world gets quiet.”

Haku finally looked up at him, a small smile on his face. “That sounds fun.”

“It is,” Zabuza frowned, then pulled out his phone. “Here, I’ve got a couple of videos from the bodycam I wear in the water sometimes.” He unlocked the device, navigating quickly through the folders until he found the right videos. With wide eyes, Haku took it from him, settling in at his side to watch them.

There was definitely some emotional whiplash, there, something that seemed broken about him still.

Zabuza had a bit of faith that Haku would recover, however.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update for being away for so long. My schedule has gotten so wonky...Might post a third chapter, too...
> 
> Anyway! I hope you guys like it! Zabuza is here and Haku is still angry at everything but he'll get better eventually.


	12. Fill Your Lungs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There is some violence and gore descriptions in this chapter! I'm adding this here so it doesn't surprise anyone!

He felt the chill in the air before anyone else.

Deidara turned to look out a window, watched as ice seemed to coat the glass. Something outside was freezing the air, frosting over everything in a way that reminded him of a disaster movie. It had been about four hours since the victims of the experiments had been pulled from the house, everything had been going too happy-ending.

From the discussion he’d heard Kankuro telling Sasori about, there was another kidnapper.

He frowned at the frost, taking a step back from the glass. “Sasori,” he tried to catch his vampire’s attention. When it didn’t work, he turned his head and tried again. “Sasori.”

Kankuro and Sasori kept talking in their language, too focused on whatever argument they were having.

“Sasori—” Deidara flinched back as something landed on the window, splattering against it. “ _Danna!”_ he snarled the word out, knowing Sasori would hear it and automatically pay attention. It had been funny to realize that, sort of, but right now it was useful. Sasori and Kankuro stopped, dead silent, as they watched the chunk of gore slide down the glass and fall somewhere out of sight. “We’re on the second floor, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Kankuro stepped forward. “What the fuck was _that?_ ”

“An intestine,” Deidara answered offhandedly, almost not even paying attention.

“…How the hell do you know that?”

“You don’t want to know, yeah,” he turned to look at Sasori. “How quickly can you get your Grouping here?”

“Fast enough,” Sasori closed his eyes for a moment and Deidara felt the magical equivalent of Sasori reaching out and plucking at the taut string of his bond with his Grouping. “Itachi and Sasuke were already on their way, I called them earlier. I suspect we’ll need to offer up space for some of these people to stay – there are people without homes to return to. I asked them if they would not mind coming and talking to some of them, see about letting them stay for a time.”

“Good,” Deidara heard something, right then, a shrill whine building up by the second.

The noise was something he’d heard before.

He didn’t know where.

“Get down!” he turned on his toes, curling an arm around Sasori, managing to get a hand in Kankuro’s hoodie, flinging them both down to the ground with him as a concussive force broke through the window of the hospital. The entire building lurched, staying mostly intact and upright. “ _Fuck,_ ” he hissed out, his left ear ringing. Both of the vampires sat up immediately, Sasori’s hand brushing over his cheek.

“Are you alright?”

“You two can be cute later,” Kankuro cut in before Deidara could answer, bracing his hands on the ground. “What the fuck is happening?” he stood up, moving to look out the remains of the window.

There, down on the ground, Deidara could see a cluster of shadowed creatures.

When one of the threw their head back and howled, Deidara felt a shiver go down his spine. The number of werewolves pulled out of the house hadn’t matched up with the pack he remembered attacking him. There had been four – Konan, Nagato, Jiroubo, and Sai. _Four._ That hadn’t been enough for his memories, not for the absolute heaving mass of werewolves he remembered all trying to eat him. His memories still weren’t very clear, still sometimes made his head ache and his brain feel three sizes too big in his skull, but he remembered that.

“Fuck,” he muttered, jamming the heel of his palm into his eye. “ _Fuck._ ”

“Deidara?” both of them turned to look at him, Sasori’s eyes wide with worry, Kankuro’s face an ashy white color as he seemed to be counting.

“That’s the rest of the pack,” he looked out the window again. “The ones that attacked me, yeah.” He gestured at his face, his chest, his entire body. Sasori paled, the same as his cousin, as he heard the meaning behind the words.

Those are the ones that we should be afraid of.

With a loud clattering, Deidara heard others arrive, the scent curling around him letting him recognize them immediately – Konan, Nagato, Sai, and Naruto. The three werewolves and the demon vessel stopped just short of him and Sasori, staring out the window. Briefly, Deidara had time to notice that someone had managed to find Konan an actual dress, instead of leaving her wrapped in a blanket. She stepped forward, her hands clenched into fists, her mate at her side.

From the snarl on her face, she recognized them too.

Nagato’s eyes, strange anyway, seemed to flash and flicker in the broken light. Between the two of them, Deidara could almost see a golden string attaching their chests, binding the two of them together. The fog that normally hovered over his memories seemed to clear for a moment and he closed his eye as a mental image of a younger Konan covered in blood, sobbing, appeared in his mind. “Danna,” he gasped the word out, feeling Sasori’s hands on his cheeks. Something about the situation was setting his mind on fire, it felt like. Something was wrong, something was painful—

He _remembered_.

 

_He lost himself._

_The ground beneath his fingers was cold, despite it nearly being summer._

_His bag had torn, earlier in the day, and his stuff had tried spilling out. On top of that, both of his friends had needed to go home immediately after school that day, leaving him to walk the mile home alone. It wasn’t a big distance, wasn’t that bad of a walk, but walking it alone with a broken bag and no headphones made it suck._

_At least he could get new headphones when he got home – his allowance was saved up enough to get a new pair. The bag could also be replaced._

_(There hadn’t been anything out of the ordinary about that day.)_

_(Mundane and Ordinary.)_

_His head had been down while he walked, rummaging through his stuff to try and sort it so that the smaller things wouldn’t fall out of the bag. Move a journal in front of the hole, create a plug so that his pencils and pens and paints wouldn’t fall out._

_(If he’d had his headphones on, he wouldn’t have heard the truck.)_

_(Small favors.)_

_It raced past him, close enough that he felt the side mirror brush the sleeve of his shirt, his hoodie tied around his waist. Any closer and the driver would have hit him, he stared in shock as the truck continued driving, too far over the line._

_A drunk driver?_

_When the truck reversed, he abandoned that thought and backed away, turning on his heel and starting to run into the woods. He hated taking that path, it always freaked him out, but it would get him home a few minutes sooner and it would hopefully keep him the hell away from the psychopath who thought that nearly hitting a teenager wasn’t enough and seemed to want another try._

_The sound of the truck tires squealing was enough to send a shiver down his spine._

_Was the asshole trying to follow him?_

_The impact against his side almost knocked him down, it tore his bag off his shoulder and sent it scattering through the undergrowth._

_Painful as it was, he could replace his sketchbooks and his supplies – his life wasn’t easy to replace, near-impossible unless he took some old legends about necromancy seriously. That was the lesson his parents had drilled into his mind for years. If he needed to, he was to scream and shout and kick and bite. There was no such thing as fighting dirty if the prize in the fight was his own survival._

_He managed to make it another forty feet, something with large teeth on his heels, before another furry body impacted against his, sending him rolling across the ground._

_Before he’d even landed fully, he had his hands up, pushing against the snapping, snarling jaw._

_He’d stopped taking lessons a couple of years back, but the martial arts he’d learned were easy enough to remember. A little rusty, but useful, even if not on a human target. With panting, panicked breaths, he managed to hit his elbow into the wolf’s throat, causing it to wheeze and curl up, teeth halted in midair._

_Using the surprise, he managed to get out from underneath the wolf, rolling out and away._

_It wasn’t enough, however, and he shrieked as something grabbed his arm. Another wolf, bigger than the one he’d attacked, with teeth clamped around his wrist. After a second, something distinctly malicious in it’s eyes, the wolf let go for a second before lunging forward again and sinking those giant fucking teeth into his upper arm._

_In seconds, he was being swarmed._

_There had to be at least ten of them, most of them bigger than he was._

_At the edge of the swarm, he could see a man with something drawn on his palms, a hand held over each head of two other wolves. Through the pain, he could make out that the designs were glowing, like they were tethering the two wolves where they were. It wasn’t until the man snapped his hands down to his sides that they charged forward._

_The pain intensified, tearing through him and making him cry out._

_He shouldn’t have gone into the woods – it had made it easier for them to get to him. The man approached as the two wolves he had unleashed tore into his body as well as the others. He crouched down next to him, still smiling in a way that reminded him of a snake._

_Of something looking at prey._

_“A pity,” he reached out and stroked the length of his hair, still smiling. “Your entire bloodline is full of such pretty faces, you would be beautiful vessels. I could not let your family endure, however – too many gifts, they would know how to counteract my plans.”_

_His grin shifted a shade more sinister._

_One of the wolves leapt at Deidara’s face, chewing at his eye socket as he screamed._

“Deidara!”

 

_“Subject appears to be testing the chamber for weakness.”_

_It had been some time since he had been attacked – he didn’t know how much time, couldn’t pull his mind together enough to figure it out. Somehow, he had survived. From the voices he heard, he knew there were others around him, but his new hearing was hard to figure out. Everything was too loud, too bright, too perfumed. Too much, much too much, he couldn’t pick out a scent or a sound from the horde and the cacophony._

_His head rolled across his shoulders as his fingers dug into the ground beneath his knees. He couldn’t focus, was still in too much pain._

_His body had knitted back together, but everything still hurt._

_He’d chewed his way out, in the end._

_Through the glass._

 

“Deidara!”

_The winters were the worst part._

_From his count, he was seventeen. He was supposed to be home, right now, in his house. Maybe even in his bed. His mom would have been making him soup, to counter the sickness he could feel driving a stake into his lungs. The cough was painful, shaking his entire body when it rolled through him._

_Instead, he watched the trees as they shook and shivered, a small army only he could fight bearing down on him._

_He was the last line of defense for the little town he’d grown up in. There was a nightmare sitting at their doorstep and he couldn’t stop it forever, but he could fight them off right now. There were night shift workers, people who walked home late after their shift was over, people who lived in the night. The vampires could take care of themselves, so could the Ghouls and every other species he knew of._

_The humans needed a bit of help._

_He dug his feet in when the first snarl echoed through the cold air._

( _The hands on his shoulders were not from his memories.)_

_The second man, the one he had only seen once, stared at him._

_In his hands was a loop of silver – a Hunter’s line. An old technique, illegal now with Werewolf rights gaining traction in the world. A loop of silver that tightened until the werewolf choked on it. Deadly, if not released soon enough. He was already bleeding, he wouldn’t be able to withstand something like that for long._

_He growled as the man stepped forward, a dangerous glint in his eyes._

_“You’re the one that escaped,” he laughed, his covered-over eye unseeing but Deidara felt threatened anyway. There was something about the man, something about the way he moved._

_Like he was a combination of pieces, a pile of separate parts._

_“Good little dog,” he snarled the words out, lunging forward too fast to retreat from. The Hunter’s line circled his neck, burning into his skin. He’d thought his pain was over, had thought he would be safe from any more like it._

_With a high-pitched yip, he turned and bit the hand closest to him, clenching down as hard as possible until he heard something click under his teeth. The man screamed, his free hand coming up to slap him across the eye, blinding him for a moment. The feel of power gathering in the air made him let go, turning and fleeing into the woods._

_The place he found to settle and try to rest, just for a moment, had once housed some deer._

_The scent was almost comforting, he thought as he dropped his head to the ground. He was exhausted, in pain again, and still being pursued. The man wasn’t too far away, would soon be close enough to find him again._

_Instead, a scent like the cold darkness of a perfect winter night entered his nose._

_He was too tired to try to fight back when the man put a hand over his muzzle, shushing him. The needle only sent a small flicker of fear running through him – if he was going to die, then at least he could be, finally, at rest._

_And then—_

_Sasori._

The air around him churned.

 

His eye opened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we've reached the part of the story I've been internally screeching about since writing it. Things are about to get...Interesting. 
> 
> Hope you're strapped in for this ride.
> 
> Want to yell at me on Discord? Go here -- https://discord.gg/RmgTP5A


	13. This Isn't A Wonderland You've Stumbled Into

Deidara had gone still.

Too still – his entire body was tensed up, his eye closed, his jaw clenched like he was in pain. With shaking hands, Sasori tried to rouse him, tried to get him to move. Calling his name had done nothing and Kankuro was standing next to him, making panicked noises as the crowd of werewolves outside moved closer.

Seeing that familiar blue eye snap open was something of a relief.

Until Deidara didn’t look at him.

His werewolf tilted his head, eye open just a little too wide, and stared out the broken window. Sparks flared around his hand and he pushed off the ground. His hair was full of static, like he’d been hit by lightning, and he moved to the edge of the hole. After a moment, both hands came up to clench at the broken glass, like he didn’t care about bleeding anymore, his shoulders oddly relax, his posture somehow calm.

“You’ve done too much, yeah,” he muttered. He raised his hands after he said it.

Sasori felt his ears pop.

That was the only warning he got about anything.

The ground below the wolves shifted and shuddered, rippling and turning into waves. In his time with Deidara, it had been easy enough to forget that his werewolf was supposed to be a magic user, one whose lessons had turned out to be a scam to get ahold of some powerful ones and use them as experiments. As Sasori watched, Deidara raised a hand, snarling and thrusting it forward, clenching it tightly. Several howls echoed out down below as the earth ripped apart and rose up over them, blanketing them before they had the chance to run.

Wide-eyed, Sasori felt his mouth hanging open. Next to him, he became aware of Kankuro with the same expression of shock on his face.

After a moment, the air resettling after the disturbance, silence fell once more. Like a taut string suddenly cut, Deidara dropped to the ground again, blinking a couple of times as he put a hand to his head. Most magic users who had never had training wouldn’t have been able to put that much of an effort into something and have it work.

Sasori hurled himself to Deidara’s side, cupping his cheeks in his hands. “Deidara?”

This time, when he said his name, his werewolf looked at him. It was one of the biggest reliefs in his life, seeing that blue eye back to normal and meeting his. “Sasori?”

“I’m here,” he glanced towards the window, saw that the wolves had been buried up to their necks. “What just happened?” he turned back to Deidara, still holding his face in his palms. The heat coming off of his skin almost burned Sasori’s hands. “What triggered that?”

“And could you do it again?” Kankuro’s voice was a little unsteady as he dropped down to sit next to them.

“I remembered,” Deidara looked down at his hands. There weren’t even any cuts across his palms – unsurprising, with how much magic he’d just channeled through himself. “I remembered what happened. I remembered who attacked me – I know who was attacking the town when you grabbed me out of the wild, Sasori.”

Something in his chest clenched at that.

Even with the memory-magic Deidara had submitted himself to, the hypnosis and everything else, there had still been a large portion of his memories that had slipped away under the fog in his mind. For those memories to have come back and triggered that force, that much self-defensive magic…

They had to be horrible.

Traumatizing.

With a hand shifting to the back of Deidara’s head, he leaned in a little closer. Their foreheads tapped together gently and he closed his eyes, just holding onto his werewolf for a moment. “Something is happening,” he whispered. “And I need you to stay safe. I also need to know: is this an attack by the person who attacked you?”

Time itself seemed to stop as he waited for the answer.

Deidara took a deep breath and Sasori already knew. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Those are the wolves that partially ate me, yeah. They never go anywhere without the guy—” he froze, his entire body tense once more. “Sasori, he’s their pack leader.”

Nagato and Konan were standing stiffly behind Deidara.

Pack leaders wielded more power than the average werewolf – they could stay human-shaped and the pack would still obey them.

They could be somewhere else while their pack attacked.

Fear coursed through him like it hadn’t since he had started planning to kill his uncle. With a small noise he didn’t mean to make, he turned his head. “We have to get back to the others. Kankuro,” he looked up at his cousin. “If this is an attack by the person who experimented on them –”

“Temari!” Kankuro jolted, turning and almost falling as he started to head back towards the people who had been retrieved from the house. “There were two people taking them, two people targeting them!”

“This has to be the second one, then!” Deidara shuddered, his body trembling as he stood, but he made it to his feet and took Sasori’s hand, following after the other vampire. “Sasori, we need to get back to them, now!” every step he took seemed to be painful, but he kept going. Konan was the first to move to follow him, dragging Nagato and Naruto with her. Sai was on their heels immediately, a quiet growl building in his chest.

The panic rising in his chest made him almost freeze, but Sasori followed.

Their path through the hospital was not quiet, desperation making them incapable of stealth as they got back to the area they had briefly left to discuss what was happening. What greeted them made Sasori want to kill someone, rip them apart until the damage was undone. The walls were cracked, the floor was stained black in places, and some of the doors were hanging off their hinges. There was webbing across one of the doors, with pieces of debris stuck in it like they had been thrown in an attempt to pierce through.

A couple of people were on the floor, unmoving, and he swallowed the guilt from that, moving on from it for a time.

There could be mourning and reparations later.

The werewolves came to a skidding halt behind them, Naruto still clinging close to his cousin.

At the end of the hall, a man with a covered-over eye stood, his single-eyed gaze focused on them. His hair was dark and his face was lined and if Sasori hadn’t been paying attention, he would have seemed like nothing more than an older man. He was windswept, like he’d just come in from a storm, but the way his eye glinted with hatred and insanity paired with the way his mouth was arranged into an unnatural smile made every single warning instinct in his body go on alert. “Oh, there is my lost experiment,” he chuckled. “I was wondering what had happened to you. One minute I was chasing you, the next…You were gone. You took my Hunter’s line with you, those are expensive and hard to acquire.”

Sasori thought, for a moment, of a bedraggled, stick-thin werewolf with a line of silver around his neck.

Thought of how Deidara had looked when he’d first met him.

How easy it had been to lift him, how little he’d displaced the water in the tub, how injured and quiet he’d been. He thought of every little thing that had never really made sense about how he’d met his werewolf. They were hard to injure, hard to damage in any lasting way – Deidara still walked with a limp. There was a slight scar around his neck from where the Hunter’s line had sat.

He’d been covered in blood, his fur matted with it.

This was the man who had caused all of that?

His hands clenched into fists, though Deidara still had a hand wrapped around his wrist, and Sasori narrowed his eyes at the man. This insufferable creature, this miserable monster, had harmed _his_ werewolf?

Had taken children and experimented on them?

A growl behind them put him on edge, the hairs on the back of his neck rising as he recognized the voice as the vampire who had been pulled out of the house insane. Zetsu, if he remembered correctly. There had been a change in his personality, like a switch had been flipped.

When he glanced back, Zetsu’s eyes were unfocused, his fangs bared.

The man in front of them was the switch.

“Oh, look, there’s another one.” His smile twisted at the edges, a little. “Implanted memories are such wonderful things. They have interesting effects. Zetsu, here,” he gestured at the vampire. “Created an entirely different personality in his head to deal with the memories I gave him. I gave him the death of a village, the murder of hundreds of souls.” His eye glinted again, unsettling. “And he created a part of himself responsible for it.”

Deidara growled at the man, letting go of Sasori’s wrist as his own hands clenched into fists.

“I’m surprised that any of the family survived to allow what happened with Zetsu to happen,” the man continued. Sai moved forward, towards Zetsu, and the man’s eye landed on him. “Oh, there’s my favorite little _pet._ ” He laughed. “Do you think he’s innocent in all of this? He was one of the people doing harm to these _creatures_.”

“What happened with him?” Kankuro’s voice was shaking but Sasori could see the rigid line of his spine, the way he stood up a little taller. He was proud of his cousin for the way he refused to back down. “What the fuck did you do to him, to all those people?”

“Zetsu was courting an Uchiha.”

Sasori froze once more, his eyes going wide. He hadn’t meant to show that much of a reaction, but he felt that it was justified. Itachi and Sasuke had survived a slaughtering of their clan. The man who had attacked Deidara in their home was an Uchiha as well, but the brothers had said that ‘Madara’ was actually a man named Obito.

“Oh, you look as if you’re trying to figure it out,” the man took a step forward. “Let me explain. Four members of the Uchiha family survived the slaughter. Two of them were a pair of brothers and for the life of me, I have never been able to find them. The other two were cousins, distant enough, but still baring the name. I hadn’t realized that they had escaped until I counted the dead and found them missing. No matter, I thought, I’ll let them live. See how things are shaped from here on out.”

He grinned, showing too many teeth.

“They created a much smaller version of the family – a young man named Obito, who looked so very much like a long-gone man named Shisui, was born from that bloodline. His grandfather, Madara, did not like Obito’s insistence on being in love with another man. Madara, a good friend of mine, asked me for advice.” The man took another step forward, like he was waiting for them to retreat. “I told him he could simply transfer himself into the younger body. Then the decisions would be his.”

Sasori saw _red_.

Deidara had nearly died – had died briefly, in fact – for the sake of protecting him. His attack had been at the hands of a man who identified himself as Madara, who Itachi and Sasuke identified as Obito.

_Everything that had happened was connected._

His hands shook as he took a step forward, a snarl leaving him as the man raised his eyebrow. “Oh, do you think you’re going to fight me?”

His nails lengthened into claws and he felt his eyes snap open wide. He could hear the old man’s heart pumping, hear the blood rushing through his veins. Kankuro’s voice was a blip in his awareness, swallowed quickly by the anger he felt right then.

This man had hurt the ones he loved – Deidara and Temari and Kankuro and Gaara – and had shattered so many families. There were young adults – _children_ – who would never be quite right because their developmental years had been spent locked in some room somewhere, being experimented on. Naruto had been nine when he’d been kidnapped, Sai had been seven, so many of the others had missed high school and middle school. There were the dead, as well, those who would never be able to go home again.

_This man was going to be torn apart._

That was the last coherent thought Sasori had before he threw himself forward, already lunging in for an attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder if anyone was thinking about what was going on with Zetsu...
> 
> If you guys feel like telling me what you thought, please do so. Leave an emoticon. Leave a O.o. Or a O.O. Do something, I dunno.


	14. Protective Big Sisters

**_Some amount of time earlier:_ **

The hospital was too quiet.

Temari looked at the door, her eyes narrowed, as she listened. Neji and Gaara were still chatting about something, her brother obviously trying to keep the Seer calm, but she tuned them out. There was something happening out in the hallway, if she listened closely enough. A different hallway, further away, but nearby. A high-pitched whine that whirred up light a drill starting.

She knew that noise.

It had been a noise she’d heard a couple of times in her waking moments, a sound that haunted her worst nightmares.

She’d watched people die because of that noise. One of the experiments that the bastards who had kidnapped her had run was fine-tuning the weapon that noise belonged to. The testing had required a person be put into a holding chamber in the middle of the room, shackled in place, with the weapon aimed at them. Once the noise had reached a certain pitch, it meant the weapon was ready to be fired.

Once fired, it tore the person apart, rending flesh from muscle and muscle from bone. In later stages, it had also fractured the bone and sent the marrow inside flying.

Something like that would mean that no resistance would ever be useful.

From the way Neji suddenly stopped talking to her brother, she knew he heard it too. His hands clenched in his blankets, the acrid scent of fear surrounding him. Gaara reached a hand out, put it on his shoulder, before looking to her. His eyes narrowed when he saw her face, the fear she must have been showing. “What do I need to do?” he asked her, his voice quiet.

In times of trouble, he was often a General, but there had been times when he’d followed her orders in battle. Six-hundred years of survival had that effect, sometimes.

There had been so many wars.

“Block the door,” she managed to make her tongue unstick from the roof of her mouth. “Whatever way you can. If you’ve got it with you anywhere, clog it with sand.” She pushed her blankets back, glancing at the clock before she approached the window. The loose pants the hospital had given her swished around her legs, the oversized robe swamping her. The shirt was soft, at least, and she focused on the texture of it as she poked at the window. “I’m about to do something really stupid.” She told the room at large.

When she glanced over at Gaara, he nodded. “What you have to do,” he whispered.

She nodded.

Slowly, she unlatched the window, pulling it open, before she put her hands on the screen and pushed. With careful pressure, she continued pushing until it cracked, until it broke, until it fell out of the window entirely. She stepped back as a wave of sand twisted into the room, flowing carefully around her before slamming into the door and packing itself down. Neji jumped a fraction, she could see out of the corner of her eye, but he watched in fascination as her brother’s sand blocked the door thick enough to be a useful barrier. “Have you got any more?” she asked him.

“Enough,” he nodded towards the window. “Which direction?”

“To the right,” she looked down at the robe, frowning at it. With a sigh, she shrugged it off and let it drop to the floor before she pulled herself up onto the windowsill. “I’ve got something that might help me if this gets dangerous,” she told her brother. “A result of what was done.”

The magical conduit that had, at one point, been inserted in her back.

She’d been in too much pain at the time, but she remembered the words, ‘Control over elemental forces’ in reference to what it could do.

She just hoped it would be enough to keep her safe.

Gaara’s sand steadied her as she climbed out the window, digging her fingers into the outer wall of the hospital. It was old-fashioned, a brick façade, which gave her plenty of handholds. The juts of the building were useful as well, a more modern style of gargoyle that she could cling to as she moved across the outside of the building.

The distance between windows seemed to take forever to cross.

When she finally reached the glass of the next one, she knocked almost frantically, spotting movement inside after barely a second had passed. The other vampire, the half-fae one she’d heard about, appeared in front of her. He shunted the window open, his mouth opening to likely ask questions, but she shook her head.

“We’re being attacked,” she told him. “I don’t know if you heard the whine, but that fucking machine is up and running here.”

He paled immediately, then turned to look at someone in the room. “Zabuza?”

Another vampire moved into view. “What are you doing?”

“I think, even with the shit done to us, most of us would rather be alive than dead,” she gestured at herself. “I’m going to warn as many people as possible. Block your door, somehow, or get out and go one window to your left. My brother is in there and his barricade is almost impossible for someone to force their way through.”

She waited until they both nodded, about to leave when the half-fae stopped her.

“But what about the people who can’t run?”

Closing her eyes for a moment, Temari nodded. “Then I’m going to stay with them. I know there’s a couple, mostly from the upstairs experiments, that can’t move really well right now. There’s also the half-giant, whose rage problems kind of got him strapped into his bed.” She opened her eyes again, watching the both of them. “What are you going to do?”

“We’re going,” Zabuza put a hand on the half-fae’s shoulder, meeting Temari’s eyes. “The half-giant and his brother are vulnerable, right now.”

“Kimimaro won’t want to leave his brother,” she warned them. “He spent the last several years trying to escape to find him again. Get them into the same room, lock it down in some way. Kimimaro has a weird control over his bones, now, as a side-effect of the experiments.”

They both nodded and she moved on.

It was almost the same process at every window: knock, get their attention, warn them. The Drider immediately clambered closer to the door of the room, sealing himself and the rest of the people with him inside of it using his silk. The door hadn’t been closed and from the way the webbing shuddered after he put it up, Temari knew she was running out of time. The attack was coming, the people were being targeted, she had to move faster.

She came across the last room.

Though she hadn’t met the people inside of it before, she knew who they were when she saw them. She’d heard the Siren’s screams, despite her muted voice, and she knew what had been done to the merman.

He was sitting in a wheelchair.

When she bashed the screen out, the window already open by them, he looked up and watched her. “What—”

“Not enough time,” she tugged her shirt down, looking around the room. “The hospital is under attack and we need to either barricade the door or get out. The whine of that _fucking weapon_ happened about eight minutes ago. I’ve gotten everyone else to block their doors or get out to somewhere else. I don’t know how safe it’s going to be, here, but a warning is better than nothing.”

“I’m Suigetsu, by the way,” he rolled himself over to the Siren, putting a hand on her shoulder when she seemed to be panicking. “This is Tayuya.”

“Good, glad to meet you, glad to know names,” Temari looked at the door. “Time to leave, I think. My brother has the door to my room blocked, but he’ll know if I approach it. We can go hide there—”

Her words came out as a gasp when a hand clutched around her throat.

Someone was suddenly behind her, though the door was still closed. She could feel malice radiating off of them, their hand burningly hot as they held onto her. She didn’t need air, of course, but it wasn’t comfortable. Vampires still breathed if they wanted to talk and hurting her throat made everything worse. In front of her, she could see Tayuya tense up, her mouth falling open and her eyes narrowing as she stood up from her bed.

The person holding Temari stepped into her line of sight and she wanted to scream.

She had only seen him a couple of times – once, when he’d decided he hadn’t wanted her for his experiments, leaving her to the mercy of the downstairs psychopath. She’d never heard a name for him, had only ever seen his face, but she had known she didn’t want more than that.

“Did you know that there are some myths that say a merman bound to land becomes a human?” was the question asked quietly to the room. Suigetsu went stiff in his chair, his hands clenching the armrests so tightly his knuckles were a bloodless white. His teeth were still needle-like, sharp and angry, when he opened his mouth to snarl at the man. “Oh, we’ve long since learned that you can’t fight back against me,” the man seemed to chuckle but there wasn’t any actual humor in it.

“There are also some myths, of course,” the man’s visible eye narrowed. “That say Banshees were, in fact, corrupted Sirens. That some great tragedy, some horrible grief, brought them to insanity and they began screaming and never stopped.”

His hands were horrifyingly steady as he lifted a needle into the air with the hand not holding Temari still, pressing the plunger to release the bubbles in the bright green liquid within. “I sought to test the theory behind it.” He only had one-eye visible but that was enough. It was full of curiosity, nothing more personal than a scientist looking at a piece of equipment. “And then she wouldn’t stop screaming, so something had to be done. She still can, of course, but only if she pushes her vocal cords. Not an easy task, nor a pleasant one.”

Temari caught Suigetsu’s eyes, glancing at Tayuya, then back to him.

He put a hand on Tayuya’s wrist.

With only a couple of seconds to brace herself, Temari gritted her teeth as Tayuya let out a scream that seemed to change the pressure in the air. She felt her ears bleeding, faintly aware of Suigetsu shoving his hands over his own.

The hand on her throat dropped off.

Temari’s knees hit the floor and she immediately turned and lashed out with her claws, looking around when there was no one there to attack. Both of her ears were ringing, her balance thrown off by the damage to her eardrums. A hand on her shoulder jolted her, but when she turned, she only saw Tayuya. “I’ll be okay,” she managed to make the words come out, though she didn’t know how loud they were. The Siren winced back a little, so she did her best to modulate her volume. “It will heal, I’ll be fine.”

Vampire healing was one of her favorite aspects of living as she was.

She could recover from wounds that would kill any mortal being, could recover damage to various parts of her. “We need to block the door,” she gestured vaguely, her head feeling like it was spinning. Tayuya helped her up, settling her on the empty bed. “Door. Block it.”

Someone said something, she was pretty sure. She heard a murmur of sound beyond the ringing.

In a couple of moments, Suigetsu had taken the empty wheelchair from the closet and shoved it under the handle, pinning it there with the wheels of the one he was in. He looked back at the two of them, his eyes wide and worried. From the look on his face, he had heard something out in the hallway. The door shuddered in a way that buckled him back, slightly, but he shoved his arms against it and held it shut. When it happened again, Tayuya moved to join him, something moving from being clutched in her hand to being in her pocket.

The two of them stood there, saying something to each other as the door continued to shake and rattle under their hands.

The entire hospital shook, the world felt like it was ending.

Temari closed her eyes and reached for the alien presence that had taken up residence in her spine. It had been implanted years ago, now, healed into her skin. A magical conduit – they had never let her out enough to test it, had never given her the chance to use it before, but she reached for it now.

Vampires had magic, they _were_ magical beings.

Of a sort, anyway.

She reached for the conduit with her mind, felt it reaching out for her as well. She was threatened and, for the first time since being captured, she was well-fed. She had energy, she had awareness, and as she touched the conduit, she knew she had _power._

The window howled outside, screaming the fury of her heart, and bashed against the hospital, soaring in through the still-open window she had climbed through to rush across the room and blast underneath the door. It was hers to control, hers to claim, and she stood on shaking legs as she directed it towards the enemy on the other side of the door. Tayuya and Suigetsu were untouched as a hurricane-force wind surged through the gaps around the door, blasting the attacker away.

Temari opened her eyes, her fists clenched.

The door had stopped shaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Temari being protective, cousins acting like each other, shared trauma being a good bonding experience...I love this chapter.
> 
> Also: I know it's probably a bit confusing, but this chapter happens before the previous one. The whining noise Temari hears and identifies is the same one that Deidara saved Kankuro and Sasori from. Deidara doesn't remember it clearly, but he knows it's a threat -- and now we find out why.


	15. The Voices In Your Head

The air shrieked angrily a few minutes after the nightmare weapon had fired.

Naruto grabbed his cousin’s hand, holding tightly to it for a second. Nagato squeezed back, barely sparing a glance towards him as they shifted nervously. Sasori had lunged forward, lashing out at the man – Naruto couldn’t remember his name – and hissing so furiously that it made the little hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

_‘Take a deep breath,’_

With a jolt, Naruto let go of Nagato’s hand, drawing back. “Kyuubi?”

‘ _Kurama, remember?’_

“Yeah, yeah,” Naruto nodded, glancing down towards where Sai stood between them and Zetsu, his teeth bared in a snarl and his shoulders braced like he was about to leap. “What did you want to tell me?”

_‘Weaknesses.’_

“Of who?”

 _‘The asshole who trapped me in your head,’_ Kurama’s voice was snappish, angrier than Naruto had heard him for a while. Even a couple of days ago, back in the house that would live in his nightmares, Kurama hadn’t been that angry. Mostly, he’d sounded like he’d given up. _‘I was in a different host, before he did that. Someone who died when he took me out – his experiments weren’t working on them and he wanted to see…Well,’_ Kurama’s pause had Naruto shuddering from what he could imagine had happened. _‘You would have ended up like them if I hadn’t immediately lashed out at him every time he came too close.’_

Swallowing nervously, Naruto took a step back from Zetsu and Sai, who had started inching closer to each other, growling and snapping. The werewolf had raised his head, his mouth hanging open and his nose scrunched up angrily. Behind him, Nagato and Konan had their hands raised, prepared to give backup to any of their side that needed help.

Konan needed paper.

That was something he remembered about her magic – a bright blue that had always been fun to watch when he was a kid. She folded paper into shapes, made semi-living creatures out of the folds. Nagato had been able to split his awareness somehow, he didn’t remember it anymore.

“I need to get Konan paper,” he told Kurama, clutching at the neck of his shirt.

‘ _We can do that, too,’_ Kurama purred the words out. _‘His name is Danzo. I don’t know what species he is, right now, but he’ll be another one soon enough. He takes bits and pieces of people he experiments on and if he killed an entire Uchiha family, there’s a technique he picked up from it. The last remaining members of the family are either vampires or possessed, but they used to have a somewhat…Immortality to them. I remember speaking to one of them, before.’_

“What do I need to do?”

 _‘Let them handle the fighting,’_ Kurama directed his attention to a nearby nurses’ station, towards a couple of stacks of papers. ‘ _Give that to Konan, then let me handle getting around and behind Danzo. We may have to kill him, but it’s going to be so much harder than I would like it to be.’_

“Why?”

‘ _He killed an entire family of semi-immortals who could give up parts of themselves to keep living a little longer. You knew when one of them had used up their extra lives by the fact that their eyes were permanently red.’_

Naruto nodded.

He knew, after this long, that he could trust Kurama, could trust what he said. The demon in his head had no interest in killing him, was smart enough to know he couldn’t just jump hosts and be okay. He was too much for the average human and researching the next host would be difficult, let alone just choosing at random and hoping for the best. When Sai lunged forward, blocking Zetsu from moving, he took that moment to leap towards the stacks of paper and wrap his hands around them. Calling her name, he tossed them into the air and watched her stretch out her hand, her magic lashing out and already shaping them into things that could help her.

Nagato was at his blind spot, stepping carefully to keep Zetsu from even slightly getting near him.

With a smile at his cousin, Naruto moved around him, inching down the hall and barely avoiding Sasori and Danzo slamming into him. With the vampire fighting the apparent pack leader, he could see his clothes and the bandages on his arms shifting around.

On the dead-white skin underneath, he could see hundreds of red eyes.

‘ _When they close, they are **dead**_.’

Naruto waited until the two had moved again, Sasori lashing out at the man’s face, before he kept inching down the hall. Moving so slowly had both him and Kurama ready to snap, but they needed to get past Danzo without him paying much attention to them.

They were both afraid of him.

It was part of why he knew he could trust his demon – they had been through so much together, had been a part of the same nightmare, Kurama had understood that Naruto was a victim as much as him. There were no misunderstandings between them. There were no secrets, no grudges, nothing that kept them from existing as almost-friends, as two people stuck in the same awful situation.

‘ _Alright,’_ Kurama looked out from his eyes for a moment, watching as Sasori and Danzo fought. Kankuro had a hand on Deidara’s wrist, keeping him from joining the fight. Given that he was still shaking from his earlier use of power, Naruto thought it was a smart thing to do. ‘ _What we’re going to do is…A strain on your body. I have to be in control of how fast our power flows out, but you have to be the one in control of your body. We’re essentially going to be sharing, for a time. Choose a side you’re better with and I’ll take the other half.’_

“The right.”

He _felt_ Kurama nod and shift into the left half of his body, his hand moving without his input. ‘ _Now, what we’re going to do is build up power in your hands. We have to take out at least half of the eyes on his body or he’ll be able to regenerate really quickly – they’re not built for that, but he’s managed to make them. Stolen power makes him fat and lazy._ ’

Naruto nodded.

‘ _Remember what you can about your magic – about the magic your parents wield.’_

It was a difficult task.

He had been nine when they had been taken away, shoved into the back of a truck and hidden away in the dark. His mother’s hair had been bright red, like Nagato’s, and her smile had been like his. He remembered the shape of his dad’s face, the blond of his hair – like _his._ He hadn’t seen them for so long, had been away for forever, but he remembered a little. The memories were bits and pieces, like he was looking at the pieces of a puzzle jumbled together in a box. If he had enough time, he could put them together into something like an actual picture, but he didn’t. He remembered water flowing around his fingers, fire lashing out between her palms before curling tight and flashing out as lightning.

He could remember laughter and happiness.

A _home_.

 _His_ home.

His parents, his family, his people.

Kurama’s purr was a little unsettling when he realized it was there, but when he looked up, his hands were crackling with lightning, the space between his palms filled with a wobbling ball of water. He was the combination of his parents and seeing the pieces he remembered of them attached to him made him want to cry.

‘ _You can cry later, I’ll allow it,’_ Kurama’s voice was quiet, reassuring. ‘ _Attack him, now!’_

Naruto jerked forward, timing his jump so that his hands landed over Danzo’s face and mouth, the ball of water choking him. Sasori, startled by the sudden third person in the fight, stepped back and away. Kurama hissed in appreciation a moment before lightning was flickering across his entire body, followed by fire and heat, a haze of almost-bloody orange-red springing to life around him. He felt the marks on his cheeks widen, his head feeling lopsided as the eye Kurama was controlling shifted to look like the demon’s eye.

There was a series of squelching noises before Danzo was shaking in his grip, the man’s body flailing as spots of blood appeared on his clothing.

Tightening his grip over his face, Naruto narrowed his eyes and jammed his knee into the man’s back, dropping him even further down to the floor. “Not good enough,” he snarled, unsure of the distinction between him and Kurama anymore. They were both angry, both ready and willing to kill the monster in front of them for everything that had been done, both to him and to the others. To those who hadn’t walked out of that house under their own power, to those who’d been pulled out in a body bag.

To Sai, to Konan, to Nagato, to Temari, to all of his friends that he’d made in the basement of a house made of nightmares.

To those he wanted to be friends with.

There was a connection between all of them, now, all of them who’d survived.

Danzo’s arm swung out and clipped the top of his head, but he barely noticed. The man was weakening under his grasp, curling down further and further, his knees slamming into the tile beneath them. Faintly, Naruto could hear a startled shout as something happened further down the hall, but he couldn’t make himself pay attention to it. The end of the hall was miles away, so far out of his awareness that it might as well have been another world.

The heartbeat in the body in front of him was fading.

‘ _Good,_ ’ Kurama’s growl was like lightning, vibrant and startling and sudden. ‘ _So many of the eyes have been closed,’_ he snarled as Danzo managed to get a hit on their head, making Naruto’s vision flash wildly for a moment.

The entire hospital shook around them but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Thirteen years of captivity, of experiments and torture and nightmares and _pain_ , trapped in a dark basement with people in just as bad a state as he was, were bearing down on him all at once. He could no more make himself let go of the cause than he could suddenly sprout wings and flap away.

He thought he heard someone shouting something, but he couldn’t make it out.

The sudden pain in his gut was a little hard to focus away from.

 

X

 

He was a member of a pack.

He didn’t know why they had just accepted him, why they had been so willing to forgive him, but they had. He had attacked them, had been the reason they were changed as they were. They had been altered by his fangs, but they had accepted him as part of their pack. Had told him he was welcome, had stood up for him when he had thought they would, rightfully, turn their backs on him and cast him out and away.

But they had taken him in and they had promised they would keep a place for him in the pack no matter what.

Which was why, honestly, he stood in between them and the vampire who smelled wrong.

The cold-blood smell of vampires was the normal scent he knew of, but this one smelled like acid, like the moment before lightning struck. He knew who it was, had been forced to work alongside him for so long.

He knew, if he could just hit him hard enough, that Zetsu would snap out of it. Would return to being quiet and calm and on his side of things. When it had just been them and the rest of the attacking pack, there had been moments he could remember of the vampire helping him. Getting him better and more food, talking in quiet whispers about how unfair it was for him to be stuck there, for him to be so young and held captive so long.

Zetsu had been one of his first friends. Seeing him like this, ripped apart and incapable of acknowledging him was awful.

And it always had been.

They had given him back a name, a part of his identity. Konan and Nagato and Naruto and Yamato – they were names that circled in his head, a pack of people who had accepted him when they didn’t have to. When they could have, had every right to, ignore him and turn their backs on him.

And _Zetsu._

Zetsu was one of the people who had accepted him, who had talked to him for a long time about managing to get out and get free and have a better life. In the moments he hadn’t been insane, he had talked so sadly, had smelled like exhaustion, had used every movement as an anchor into reality. Danzo had spoken, a couple of times, about having transplanted memories into his head and ripped his sanity apart.

One of his first experiments. One of the worst stories Sai had heard.

With a snarl, Zetsu took another step towards him, a threat all at once, and Sai growled back, crouching down and baring his teeth. He didn’t want to attack, but if he had to, he would.

_He didn’t want to._

There was static in his mind and he couldn’t remember everything, but he remembered his friends, his new pack, the people who had done this to all of them.

He remembered the _fae_.

The floor shook beneath his paws as he snapped at Zetsu’s hand, his teeth grazing against the back of his hand. The vampire drew back and away, his eyes dropping to the tear in his skin. For a moment, just a moment, Sai thought he could see his old friend in those eyes – Danzo’s meddling had taken him away time and again and he could stand what had been done to him, could stand what had been forced on him, the pains and the nightmares, but his friends needed to be safe from it.

Spared from the pains he lived with.

The fae, his fae, the one who had held onto him and followed him every when he could, was somewhere nearby. He could smell the wildness of him, the scent of the trees that had immediately started following him again once he had gotten out. 

Yamato was behind Zetsu, his hands held up and wrapping around the vampire’s shoulders.

Like he could tell Sai wanted him safe, didn’t want to attack him, and he was just keeping him still. Zetsu’s snarls grew louder, violent, but Yamato held onto him, his hands glowing faintly as he did. “Sai,” he turned to him, his eyes wide. “Are you alright?” his smile was a little confused but he was actually smiling – he smelled happy, for some reason. The _weapon_ had gone off but he was still happy – why?

Sai moved towards him, circling around both of them. Zetsu twitched and jerked in Yamato’s arms, a hiss of air escaping him, before he went terrifyingly still.

His eyes, when he opened them again, were a much clearer color.

Yamato’s hands were still glowing as they moved up to his head. Zetsu dropped to his knees and Yamato followed the movement, supporting him. It wasn’t a restraint anymore, it was a helping hand.

“…Sai?” Zetsu’s voice was weak, like he was exhausted.

With a soft laugh, Yamato crouched down behind him. “That is Sai, yes,” his smile grew. “I am glad that worked.”

“What,” Zetsu took a deep breath, his body shuddering, and Sai darted forward, nudging his head against the vampire’s chest. “Did you do?” his hands were trembling, burying in Sai’s fur. “I can…I…”

“I am a fae,” Yamato glanced down the hallway, to where the other vampires were, towards where Danzo was. “I have a particular skill set – I can bring people back to themselves, sometimes. I can – I reached into your mind and pulled you out from underneath the stitched-on memories. What you’ve been living with, the visions you drop into, the personality that takes over, none of it is…”

“I killed an entire clan,” Zetsu’s voice shook.

“No, you didn’t,” Yamato took his face in his hands. “Danzo did.”

Sai looked between them, confused, then turned back to Yamato. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t form words, but the fae seemed to understand from the way he was being watched.

“I—” he cut himself off before he could even finish his sentence. “ _No!”_

He was standing and running off in seconds, the scent of blood filling the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy...
> 
> Well, I've been gone for a while! I swear, I didn't stop working on this story. I just...Hit a stopping point. I tried to write something, got about 800 words into it and went, "No." 
> 
> So I took some time off, let myself breathe on it for a while, then continued again. I guess I got past the writer's block, because I managed to write about 10K, recently. The story is better for it, honestly. I might release the unused section as a bonus bit later on, but it isn't part of the main story. It didn't feel right. 
> 
> I'm not going to low-ball on a story just because I want to continue on with something that doesn't feel right. I literally copy-pasted it into a different document, then deleted it from the main one. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this! I might post a couple of chapters to make up for being gone for so long.


	16. Itachi's Interlude

“Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere?”

Itachi nodded, pressing his face into his hands a touch more forcefully than was comfortable. “The Grouping has been summoned – Sasori needs us for some reason. I was already supposed to be on my way, as was my brother.” He sighed, shaking his head and curling further into himself. The hands on his back were comforting, Kisame’s body so close he could feel his heat. “I need your support,” he hissed the words out, feeling a clawing ache in his chest. “I need you with me,” he looked up, meeting Kisame’s eyes. “I cannot do this without you.”

“Your Grouping doesn’t know I exist,” Kisame’s lips pinched together. “Are you sure you want them to find out this way?”

“You have been more than patient with me,” Itachi shook his head again, a small flash of laughter escaping him. “You have put up with being a secret for nearly two years, now. I do not want to keep you a secret any longer and I _need_ you with me.” He caught the merman’s hand as Kisame reached for his face, cupping it in his own and letting him curl his fingers around Itachi’s jaw. “Whatever is happening, it is of some importance, some fairly nightmarish design. Sasori would normally call us,” he patted his pocket, where his phone was.

“Not activate the Grouping bond,” Kisame finished for him. He went silent for a minute. “I’m going with you. But if it looks, even for a second, like they’re going to attack you because I’m there? I’m going to defend you. I don’t care if that means attacking them right back or if it means letting someone else die – Itachi, I can’t lose you,” his other hand curled around Itachi’s cheek as well, cradling the vampire’s head. “I’m here. I’m yours.”

“I am yours,” Itachi smiled at him. “Whatever is happening…”

“We’ll get through it together,” Kisame nodded. “I’ll even meet your little brother and try not to laugh if he threatens me.”

“He will,” Itachi stood, taking Kisame’s hands and letting himself be picked up. Kisame strode through the water as if it weren’t sweeping at his legs, unhindered by the drag and the pull of the tide. They made it to shore from Kisame’s favorite perch in a quarter of the time it would have taken Itachi to free himself from the water by walking. Bundled up neatly on the sand, in a drier spot, Itachi’s shoes and pants were waiting for them.

Something else was waiting for them.

“You need to learn to turn the GPS on your phone off,” Sasuke greeted them. When he glanced at Kisame, one of his eyebrows rose. It was a familiar expression, made even funnier by the way Kisame snorted with laughter, recognition settling in. “If I had been someone trying to kill you, I don’t think we’d be here right now.”

“Turning off my GPS setting seems almost counter-productive,” Itachi shot back, settling gently on his feet as Kisame set him down. His merman stayed standing next to him, offering an arm to let him balance as he pulled his pants back on over the swim shorts he wore. “I seem to remember an hour-long lecture from someone, demanding I keep it on at all times.” He watched as Sasuke rolled his eyes. “Besides, I think it is worth keeping on when it enables you to find me.”

He paused. “I am not complaining, but why are you not panicking?”

“About what, exactly?” Sasuke shrugged. “You being curled up with a guy? I’ve known you since I was born, Itachi, you being gay isn’t a surprise. About the guy being a merman? Okay, that one threw me a little.” He shook his head, his bangs whipping out to the side as he did. “Itachi, you come home smelling like the sea, sometimes.”

“I—”

“It’s okay,” he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Dad isn’t here, anymore. He’s not going to scream and yell and be angry about you being happy in the way you want to be.” Sasuke glanced up at Kisame. “If your shark-man here hurts you, however, I will spill his blood.”

Itachi covered his mouth with a hand, feeling the urge to burst into tears.

His little brother was crass, sometimes, often had difficulty wording things in the way he meant, but when he got it right, it was sincere, heartfelt. Sasuke, if he said something like that, meant it. If Itachi was hurt as a result of the relationship, he would protect his older brother. And he was right.

Their father was no longer around.

That had been a part of his fear, one of the reasons he kept Kisame to himself.

“C’mon,” Sasuke put a hand on his shoulder, guiding him towards the car. “Sasori needs us at the hospital. Shark-man? You too, we might need all the help we can get. From what I’ve been feeling over the Grouping Bond, something is going wrong. They’ve had them out of that place for about two days, now, but something still isn’t right.” He settled into the driver’s seat of his car, waiting for them. “Something is going really badly, I can almost feel it.”

In the very back of his car was Obito, looking quietly out the window.

Itachi opened the car door and sat next to him, glancing between Sasuke and Kisame as he realized that his position put them next to each other. Kisame settled into the passenger seat, looking back at him. With a glance in the mirror, Sasuke started the car up and began driving.

The rule had quickly been put into place.

Getting Obito out from under the possession of Madara had been difficult. Sasuke was still healing the cut across his shoulder from the incident, after all. The ceremony had been part of why Itachi had run off to spend some time with Kisame. Back at their home, Madara was locked in a jar, a malicious dark cloud.

His thoughts were leading him in circles, around the main idea at the very center of it all.

Obito continued staring out the window, his hands in his lap. He didn’t respond when Itachi sat down next to him, didn’t move when Itachi’s hand found his. The Uchiha clan hadn’t been physically demonstrative, hadn’t been about comfort and kindness and warmth shared. Everything in their home had been cold and stark and singular, contained within limits. Obito had grown up in a kinder environment, but he still acted on the model of behavior that Madara had left in his mind.

“Obito?” Itachi watched his cousin’s face carefully, to see if he would react at all.

It had been three days since they had pulled Madara out of his mind.

A week since Deidara had nearly died.

That their cousin was not healing was worrying. He and Sasuke tended to tiptoe around the subject, but Obito wasn’t healing. It was like a part of him had become detached in the removal of Madara.

If he never recovered, neither of them had a clue what to do with him.

“We’re going to the bigger hospital, right?” Sasuke asked after a couple minutes of silence. “That’s sort of where the Grouping Bond is telling me to go – am I right about that?”

“I believe so,” Itachi nodded, looking up when Kisame reached back and put a hand on his knee. There was nothing sexual about it in that moment, nothing that wanted to start something. It was just a point of contact, of reassurance and connection, and Itachi was, not for the first time, grateful that Kisame could read him so well. “He called me earlier, asked if we would not mind temporarily housing some of the survivors, just the ones who had no home to return to.”

The car ride passed in silence after that, Sasuke focused on the road, Itachi focused on their cousin. Kisame kept his hand where it was, keeping Itachi from disappearing too far into his head.

It was when they were within a mile and a half of the hospital that something happened.

Obito jumped like he’d been shot, his breathing suddenly coming out in gasps, panicked whines coming from him. The sound was the first thing he’d said, the first thing he’d done on his own, since they had pulled Madara out of his head. “I…” he whimpered, his hands shaking as he glanced around. “Where…?”

“You’re okay,” Itachi turned to see Sasuke looking into the rearview mirror. “We’re cousins of yours. We can explain a little better once we’re not driving.”

“My name is Itachi,” he caught Obito’s attention. “We are the two who directly survived the slaughter. You are the descendant of one of the others who did. As my brother has said, we can explain more later, but there is something we must do at this hospital.” He gestured towards the building as he spoke, watching Obito’s eyes follow the movement. The man stared at the building, his mouth open.

“I need to go in there,” Obito turned back to him. “I don’t know why, but I need to go in there.”

“I know for a fact that you can’t walk,” Sasuke spoke up again. “After we yanked Madara out of your head, you couldn’t walk.”

“Then get someone to _carry me_ ,” Obito shook his head. “I need to go _in!”_

With a glance at Kisame, who nodded, Itachi took a deep breath. “Very well,” he watched Obito’s panic die down slightly. “You may come in with us.”

Whatever was happening, the air felt stale.

Unsafe.

The hospital was under attack.

Leaving Obito in the car might very well end up with him dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sasuke is a supportive brother and I will eventually be going into their backstory a bit more.
> 
> Oh, Obito honey...
> 
> : D


	17. If Heaven's Grief Brings Hell's Rain

Naruto was _bleeding._

Yamato felt panic welling up in his chest as he ran, his hands already outstretched as he made it closer to the boy he had watched grow up for the last several years. Naruto’s hands had let go of Danzo, who was trying to catch his breath after the demon vessel had been shoving water into his mouth and nose, but Yamato ignored him. Sasori was already heading back towards him, like the fighting before hadn’t been enough for him.

Considering who was at his side most of the time, Yamato couldn’t blame him – he would be angry too, if someone had harmed the person he loved like that.

His hands landed on the demon vessel’s arms, barely paying attention as Sai and Zetsu caught up to him. Sai was nosing towards the injury, whining, while Yamato focused on trying to slow the bleeding. The blade had been removed already, Danzo having stabbed through himself to reach Naruto. A desperate move by a desperate man, one who had seen Death coming for him and had panicked. Zetsu, his eyes clear, glared at the man and stepped forward as Sasori moved, stopping the other vampire in his tracks.

“ _You_ ,” he hissed the word out, venom dripping from the syllable. His hands were clenching into tight fists at his sides.

Yamato had cleared out the ill-fitting memories, had removed them from his mind. The other personality was still going to be in his head, but he could think past the memories that had been shoved in, could think apart from the nightmares that weren’t his. He let his eyes meet Danzo’s, who turned to look at him with wide eyes. With a small smirk, he turned back to Naruto, pressing his hands against the boy’s wound.

Danzo, despite what he had done to all of them, wanted their help?

He would have to learn that it was not coming.

A far-off stampede of steps made Sai twitch at his side, but Yamato ignored it, pouring healing through his hands and into Naruto’s body, keeping him from fading beyond reach. Whatever Danzo had done to the blade, whatever he had coated it with, the demon vessel wasn’t healing from it like he should have been. As the steps grew louder, Sai standing up and snarling at the new arrivals, Yamato glanced up. The first two on the scene were similar enough that he figured they were related, their hair dark and their eyes narrowed as they ran down the hall.

The third was a merman that seemed almost too tall for the hallway, the top of his hair brushing the ceiling. Over his shoulder, he was carrying a fourth member of their little group.

“My name is Itachi,” one of the first two dropped down next to Yamato, glancing over at Sasori for a moment. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Before Yamato could say anything, the man that the merman was carrying flailed in his grip, suddenly active and awake. He dropped to the ground, out of his hold, the advantage going to him through the element of surprise. When he landed, Yamato could see his features – he looked like the other two, related in some way.

A funny thing happened.

Often, when something funny happened, there was laughter. There was a joke, of some sort, a punch line.

This was more the sort of funny that occurred when someone was telling a story and slipped into sarcasm. The third related-looking man stood up slowly, his legs trembling as he did. The look on his face was one of anger, his shoulders held tight as he moved towards Danzo. “You,” he huffed the word out like speaking took all of his effort. “ _YOU.”_

Yamato recognized him, then.

It had been difficult, at first – recognition stalled out when hair was changed, when posture was different and clothing styles were switched out. The man in front of him was the one who had been in charge of their portion of the Lair. The Lab, the lower floor. He didn’t even turn his eyes on Yamato or Sai, however, simply dragged himself forward. His body moved awkwardly, like he’d been sitting down for too long. Or perhaps like a comatose person might move once they had woken.

He looked familiar until he didn’t, anymore.

“You son of a _nightmare!”_ he snarled the words out, his voice higher-pitched than Yamato remembered. “Do you realize what you _did?_ ” his breath choked, his words cut off at the ends. “Do you even _know?”_

His hands clenched over his heart, tears building up and spilling down his cheeks. He was human, Yamato could tell. For all that he looked familiar, he wasn’t. This wasn’t the man that had tormented them, the one who had experimented on them until their dreams had turned to nightmares. This was someone else entirely – his power didn’t even register the same as the power of the man who had kept them captive.

Zetsu stopped dead in his tracks, halfway to where Danzo sat on the floor. His breath caught in his throat.

Yamato looked between the two of them, reaching out to put a hand on Sai’s shoulder. The werewolf followed when he tugged gently, his other hand still on Naruto. The other of the first two dropped down to sit next to them, putting his hand over Yamato’s. “I can help heal,” he whispered. “Just keep it flowing.”

“I lost _everything_ ,” the crying man hissed the words out, continuing to advance on Danzo. “You let him into my head, you let him take me over – there was _nothing_ left of me! I was trapped behind my own eyes and you let him do that!” his hands clenched into fists, his entire body trembling. Whether it was the sheer effort of keeping himself upright or from how angry he was, Yamato could not tell. “I was in love. I was due to get married.” His eyes closed and he shook his head. “And then you told him how to get into my head. How to control me.” When he opened his eyes, they were a bright red color. “I am going to _slaughter you_.”

“Consider,” Danzo wheezed the word out. “That you are awake and aware again.”

The man came to a halt. “What?”

“You become unresponsive when you were pulled out of range, didn’t you?” Danzo’s wheeze turned into laughter. “I was trying to replicate your bond, I managed something close enough.” He gestured towards Konan and Nagato. “But it was barely a touch upon the original. You become unresponsive when pulled far enough away from him.”

“Him—”

“You didn’t notice who else was in the room,” Danzo smirked, clutching a hand over the still-bleeding spot on his stomach. Unlike Naruto, he seemed to be healing from whatever poison it was. “Did you?”

The man stood up straighter. His eyes faded back to an almost-black brown, his gaze moving across the room.

When he spotted Zetsu, the stream of tears started up again, his hands over his mouth. “I—”

“Congratulations,” Danzo leaned against the wall, using it as leverage to stand. “On being the only thing I could not replicate correctly. Madara let me study you, sometimes, would let me try to find out what was so special and different about the two of you.” He stood up straight as well, his hands dropping to his sides. Power flared out from them and Yamato winced, watching it dance around his fingers.

Caught as he was between healing Naruto and protecting Sai, there was nothing else he could do.

 

X

 

The water in the pipes was almost singing to him.

He could hear it rushing, filling in the almost-silence that surrounded them as they sat in the room with the others, those he and Zabuza had gone to protect. Out in the hallway, he could hear a conversation, angry words filling the air. At his side, Zabuza was tensed, the muscles in his arms taut and ready. Like he was willing to step into the fight and mow down any opponent that came along.

Haku stood up.

In the silence, the stillness, it drew the attention of everyone in the room. “I need to go out there,” he said, his voice soft. He could feel his fae-half, his mother’s blood, screaming at him. Someone needed protection – the other fae was out in the hall and he needed help. Haku could help.

Yamato must have been from the same Court as his mother.

The fragmented bond was still enough.

His breath suddenly turned to fog in the air, like he was a winter’s night and what little warmth remained in him was escaping right then. Zabuza stood as well, nodding. “What is your plan?”

The half-giant and his brother both watched them, their mothers sitting close by and holding tightly to their sons.

“Get out there,” Haku moved to the door, wrenching quickly at the long shard of bone Kimimaro had yanked out of his arm and stabbed through the door, into the frame. “Keep them from dying. The man who did this,” he tapped the end of the bone. “Is out there. If I do not go, then he can and will harm the others. Someone needs to stop him.” He grit his teeth, turning to meet Zabuza’s eyes. “And I intend to freeze every drop of liquid in his body.”

“Good plan,” Zabuza held the door shut. “One problem.”

“What?” Haku felt his fangs lengthening.

“You’re not going out there alone,” he gestured at Haku. “Your powers are still shifting – how well can you control ice?” he waited for a moment. “When did you start learning that? I’m willing to bet it was recently. You were a Seelie, before. Sunshine and warmth, the Summer Court.”

“Then come with me,” Haku shrugged. “Help me.” He turned to the door again. “Or stay out of my way.”

Zabuza let the door open this time, following after Haku when he slipped out the crack. For all his size, Zabuza was a graceful man, able to follow silently along as Haku crept down the hallway. Every door he moved past was sealed shut in some way – Drider’s silk, sand, a howling gale sweeping around the entrance. None of the doors he knew belonged to the others who had been pulled out with him were open, except for Zetsu’s room.

Zetsu, who stood at the middle of the confrontation down the hall.

Who was staring, heartbroken in some way, at the man who had been running some of the experiments on them. The only thing that kept Haku from separating his head from his neck was Zabuza’s hand on his shoulder. The window was open a crack, broken, allowing a soft breeze into the hospital. Danzo stood at the epicenter, his smirk infuriating as his hands flashed and flickered, surrounded by power.

At his side, Zabuza went stiff, startled by something. Before he could look, the other vampire leaned in closer to him. “When I give the signal, you direct as much of your attention as possible to freezing everything the water touches.” The whisper curled into his ear, Zabuza’s lips an inch from his face. Haku felt something malicious in his heart, ready and willing to destroy the enemy.

He figured he would know the signal.

One of the ones he didn’t recognize, a merman of some sort, glanced quickly at Zabuza, his head inclining a fraction. His eyes flashed to Haku, for a moment, and he nodded again.

Haku clenched his hands into fists, taking a deep breath. Something was about to happen, something Danzo had no way of predicting.

That was how he had always stopped them from escaping – he seemed to know what they were going to do before they did it. Tayuya had been caught three feet from the door of her room, once – she had been absolutely silent, not even the floorboards squeaking beneath her. One of the others, one of the ones that didn’t make it out, they had been plotting quietly in their room, speaking through the vents into Haku’s room. He had never seen their face but he heard their scream as Danzo killed them.

The man before him deserved to suffer for what he had done.

The one Zetsu was staring at, however, was confusing. Haku recognized him, but he was different. His posture was changed, his entire body shifted into an unfamiliar pose. Gone was the raging madness that had twisted his features the few times Haku had seen him. Now he was just furious, aimed at Danzo, mixed with looks of panic and longing that seemed to be shot at Zetsu.

There was a story there that Haku didn’t know, he understood that.

“Do you think I wouldn’t know?” Danzo’s voice was just as vile-sounding as it had always been, a tone that told Haku he still thought of them as less than sentient. He had explained that, once, had told Haku how inhuman they were, how they deserved to be torn apart and used for the betterment of him and others like him. “Haku, look at _you._ ” He scoffed, amused by something. “Can you even use your magic anymore?”

A blond man took a step forward, his hands clenched into fists as well.

The only one to ever escape.

Haku recognized him.

One of the vampires put a hand on his shoulder, protective, as he bared his fangs at the man. Haku took a step back, towards Zabuza, and leaned into his side. “I don’t know,” he felt the older vampire’s hand curl around his, squeezing tightly. “I guess I’ll find out.”

Zabuza’s thumb pressed into the palm of his hand, just as a wave of water appeared from out of nowhere.

In his heart, gut instinct, whatever it had to be called, Haku knew it was the signal.

He drew on the cold he felt, the ice inside of him.

He let it loose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh...  
> The storytelling method is about to go wibbly for a bit. I wrote the story in the way I needed to without worrying about linear events and let me tell you -- Worth It.
> 
> So we're going to see Zetsu's POV soon.


	18. Such A Pity

The others didn’t need to know.

The threat was on their doorstep and most of them were not fit to fight in their current states – Naruto was the only one Orochimaru could think of that would likely be able to, so soon after being in captivity. His demon, Kurama, was the reason for it. That was the only thing that separated him from everyone else, at the moment.

He would be the only one able to really throw himself into a fight at the moment.

Orochimaru had an advantage based on how quickly he had gotten out of captivity compared to the others, based on how strong he had always been, how quickly he healed and how resilient he was because of what he was.

Nagas were used to starvation, at times – Winter was a difficult period of the year, especially when it had come to history. Snakes needed to feed fairly often, depending on the breed, but he could practically hibernate and survive off a meal once a month. Before the invention of modern technology, times had been difficult. Food hadn’t kept long and everywhere had the risk of becoming cold overnight, especially in climates with a cold snap, a winter season.

What he meant, really, was that Danzo’s pack could try and find the others, but he would absolutely pump his venom into each and every single one of them before he would let them find the others.

Naruto might have been able to help him in a fight, but none of the others would be able to.

Whatever powers Danzo had managed to graft onto them wouldn’t be all that useful, just yet, not until they trained with them some, until they’d gained control of them. If they were to help him fight, he would need them to be perfectly in synch with the new versions of their bodies that Danzo had forced them into.

As it stood, he could not ask them for that help, at the moment.

Not when they were recovering, barely two and a half days after being pulled out of their worst nightmares.

Orochimaru slid down the side of the building, plopping heavily to the grass and sliding across it. “Do you think you can get past me?” he called out to the werewolves, watching them shift and heave. The entire pack of them was a monstrous sight – obviously Danzo’s experiments, the earlier ones. The ones before he had taken to having an entire basement and house full of children he’d made grow up too early. He had to wonder if these ones had been consensual, had been people who had wanted to be altered.

The air tasted like confidence, from them, and he decided he had his answer.

“There is something of a trick to it, I admit,” he twisted upright, his arms held out from his body as he surveyed the entire pack. There were twelve in front of him and he could practically taste at least a dozen more when a breeze picked up. They were covered in dirt, fragments of rock and clumps of clay. For a moment, he wondered if he could actually come out of a fight between them as the victor.

After that moment passed, he decided it didn’t matter.

As long as he could give the others time to get to safety, time to hide and run and whatever else they needed to do, he would do what he could. What he needed to do.

The very apothegm at the heart of the life he had tried to live, the very truth of his existence, stood out to him in that moment. Sometimes, he had failed at doing right by the words, sometimes he had tried to forget them. It had been a long time alone, for him, a long life of loneliness and no other stable person but himself.

_You have to do whatever you can’t not do._

Despite them all having reached adulthood in the dark, by the terms of the society they had been pulled from, he still thought of all of them as children. By his measure, they still were. Being in their twenties had less impact when faced up against his thousands of years. They were children, tormented and experimented on and promised a relief from pain, only ever getting more of the same.

He was the adult and he had a duty to protect the young.

“You should have walked away,” he informed the wolves pacing in front of him. “You should have left and never come here, you should have ignored his asking for help.” He held up an arm, slicing into the pale flesh and watching the resulting dribble of blood lazily flowing towards his elbow. With a harsh snap of his arm, the blood went flying, splattering across the ground and hissing when it made contact. “If you take another step forward, I will end your lives.” He watched, his eyes half-closed, as his spilled blood formed sigils on the ground. Some of them were for keeping intruders out, some of them were for draining the power of those who wished to do harm.

Specific to the children, of course. Harm wished upon them would be punished.

If they wished to harm someone else, however, as long as there was a logical mind behind the attacks…Well, who was he to stop it?

His magic was very specific.

And he had a wide range, allowing him to alter the course of a battle several hundred yards away.

It did not matter that some of those in the hospital were a couple of centuries old. It did not matter that some of them would object to being called children.

They were all younger than him and someone needed to protect them.

As he raised to the extreme of his height, Orochimaru grinned. The approaching attack faltered for a moment – he couldn’t blame them, a grinning Naga was a Naga to fear – but they continued to move forward. “Then we do this the hard way.”

The silence in the air was split by a deafening howl.

 

X

 

There he was.

After so long, after so many years thinking he had been killed, there he was. In front of him, living and breathing. His small clan had been murdered, the second time that the Uchiha clan had been killed, but he was standing in front of Zetsu once more. Alive, breathing, warm and solid and living.

Zetsu felt his hands clench into fists as he stared at Obito.

He had come in with a couple of other vampires and a merman, the vampires looking related to him. He would bet most anything that they were.

Danzo said something else, taunted someone, but he didn’t hear the words. Obito was standing in front of him for the first time in almost two hundred years. His lovely one, his husband-to-be, a marriage recognized only by the remnants of the Uchiha clan. The damage to them had been great, enough so that they had abandoned some of their long-held beliefs, had disposed of most of their harmful ideologies.

Something tugged at his memory and Zetsu closed his eyes.

Obito’s grandfather.

The sour old cuss had objected, loudly and often, until he hadn’t anymore. Until one day, he’d simply gone silent.

That had been a week before their lives had been ripped apart and Zetsu’s throat had been torn open by a feral vampire. In the fight, he’d managed to kill the vampire that was attacking him, but their blood had already mixed. He had already gotten Turned. Time was a bit of a blur, after that, but he remembered attacking someone in a similar way, the warmth of their blood rushing down his throat. It had been that act that had instilled some sanity in him again.

Obito watched him with wide eyes, though Zetsu could not tell if he was scared or something kinder.

The other vampires – his cousins, they must be – stood up at his sides, the shorter one keeping a hand on his back, steadying him. There were words being said but Zetsu could not make himself hear them – not when Obito was _right there_ , within reach if he could just reach out and hold him. The fae had dragged him out from under the weight of what had been done to him and he was grateful because it had led to this moment.

He took half a step forward before he could stop himself and Obito’s eyes went bright, his hands lifting slightly like he wanted to reach out.

“And _you_ ,” Danzo’s voice was sudden, loud and directed at him. “So you managed to escape my memories,” he stepped in front of Zetsu, blocking his path. Over his shoulder, Zetsu could see Obito’s eyes narrow, his upper lip curling back, the darkness of his eyes turning to a bloodied red. “Do you think this is your happily ever after?” he laughed. “There is no happy ending, for you, not when I am here – you are some of my most prized research, one of my best tools!”

Zetsu lashed out and watched as Danzo practically flew backward to escape his claws. “You slaughtered _hundreds_ ,” he snarled the words out, advancing on the man. He was a vampire, but Danzo was a _monster_. “You murdered _children –_ you had _me_ murder _children!”_

He felt the rush of anger, the pull of the connection that had always seemed to direct him back to Obito. He could remember now, could remember why the Uchiha clan had been so willing to let Obito marry another man.

A Soulmate Bond was rare.

The thread of Destiny had woven them together, binding them only once they had realized how much they loved each other. If they had never met, the bond likely would never have woken up, would have lied dormant and quiet until the end of their days. Without Danzo’s memories rotting his mind, Zetsu could remember – he could remember so much more, now. The way Danzo had tried to recreate the bond, had tried to force it on some of the others. Some of the children. An artificial version of something so natural, so wonderful, an artifice that rotted all the good out of the bond.

Feeling his anger burning inside of him, Zetsu slashed out again, watching as Danzo fell back further and further.

The merman who had arrived with the vampires took a step forward, his hands raised.

Zetsu paid him no mind.

Danzo glanced around the room, seeming to notice something down the hall. It worked for just a second too long, Zetsu turning his head to see who was approaching.

In the time it took for him to do that, Danzo had reached out to Obito and slashed across his arm, collecting some of the blood that rose to the surface. He closed his hand around it, smirking as a light shone between his fingers. “If you attack me, if you kill me, Obito will die with me.” He met Zetsu’s eyes. “Do you really want to lose him again, so soon?”

Half of the eyes on Danzo’s skin, the stolen lives of the Uchiha clan, were closed.

Danzo was acting out of desperation, still pretending he had control of the situation. He spoke the truth, Obito would die if Zetsu slit Danzo’s throat, but it was an act of desperation, a forced choice born not of wanting more control but of rapidly losing it.

He heard the approaching footsteps, recognized the scent of the fae-vampire and another. Haku, he remembered, was one of the ones he had been forced to turn.

Zetsu could not make a move.

It was a little like chess – his pieces had been taken off the board, one by one, and only his king remained. To protect his king, he had to move.

But there was no move he could make. Obito was trapped if he so much as put a single toe out of line. He couldn’t kill Danzo, not while Obito was bound to him. He couldn’t get Obito out of there, Danzo had enough speed to turn on anyone who tried such a tactic. Vaguely, faintly, he could hear Danzo addressing Haku, insulting him.

Trying to ruin his spirit.

Zetsu could do nothing but stare at Obito.

If this was the last he would ever see of him, he had to make the memories stay. Had to make them last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy.
> 
> So...Uh...
> 
> Well.
> 
> Zetsu and Obito, folks! And Good Orochimaru!
> 
> Hmm...Seems like someone should kill Danzo.


	19. Rallying Help

He knew something was wrong.

He was still strapped to his bed, but he could tell something was wrong. Kimimaro sat next to him, a hand on his arm, their mothers sitting in chairs at the end of the bed. The two vampires had slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Something was going wrong out in the hallway and he knew it.

Kimimaro shifted in his chair, meeting Juugo’s eyes. Without a single word, they both nodded and Kimimaro stood, moving closer. Their moms watching, he bent down to start unstrapping Juugo. “Kimimaro?” one of them asked. Neither of them stood to stop them as he finished, Juugo sitting up slowly and looking at the door. Kimimaro stood with a hand on his shoulder.

His older brother had been fragile, when they were kids.

What had been done to them had left him somehow both as strong as the oldest stones and as fragile as porcelain. He could pull his entire skeleton out of his body, now, could warp it into shapes it was not meant to be in.

Juugo could feel the anger he had been afraid of his entire life rising inside of him.

Their weaknesses had been warped, in a way, into some of the greatest strengths. From a child with a broken immune system and the half-giant he had refused to be separated from to adults who grown up trapped in the worst possible situation to grow up in, they had shifted together. Even when Danzo had split them apart, had broken Juugo’s arm in order to get him to stop holding onto his brother’s hand, they had never really been separate.

In everything but blood, they were brothers.

They were legally and family-bound to be so, they would live as such, they would die as such.

And not even their mothers, concerned as they were, could stop them from deciding, as one, at the same moment, to step in and help those who had grown up with them. They had gone from being a singular pair of brothers, two of a kind and that was all, to having so many others that they would be unwilling to be parted from.

“We need to help them,” Juugo managed to keep his voice even as he looked at their moms.

“Or they’re going to die,” Kimimaro added.

Rumi and Yana looked horrified. Both of them looked at the door, then at each other. Rumi stood from her chair, brushed her skirt straight once more, then strode across the room. “You boys keep each other safe,” she whispered, one hand on each of her sons. She held them both close for a moment, her cheeks pressed against theirs, their heads curled into her shoulders. “I held you as babies,” she whispered. “I cared for you and I loved you and then I lost you, somehow – someone took my babies from me,” she pulled away, a hand on each of their cheeks. “But you managed to stay together. Keep each other safe, keep each other alive.” She smiled, her eyes watery with tears that were starting to flow down her cheeks. “As you always have. As you always will.”

Yana moved to stand behind Rumi, a hand on her waist. “They’re our kids,” she managed to say it with only the barest hint of a quaver in her voice. “Our boys,” she smiled, meeting Juugo’s eyes. “And they’re going to come home when all of this is done.”

It was an order, of a kind, and both of them nodded.

“There are still some questions I need answered,” Kimimaro laughed a little. “I need to know if he still wants me around. I still have some unfinished projects in my room. There’s still an entire world I need to see.” He took a deep breath as Juugo stood up. “I wasn’t done fighting when I was stuck in a hospital bed for months on end, I’m not done fighting _now._ ”

Juugo could feel the anger slipping into his control, a lifetime of keeping it in his grasp putting a leash on it. “We’ll be okay,” he looked at their mothers and smiled. “I can feel it.”

With that, he and his brother slipped out into the hallway together, following the path of the two vampires who had left.

 

X

 

There was something in the air.

Tayuya lifted her head, her eyes going half-closed as she did, then looked at Temari and Suigetsu. The vampire was still recovering her hearing but she had parked herself in front of the door and was refusing to move. Between her hands was an ever-shifting orb of wind, a howling gale that mimicked the one she had put around the door.

Anyone who tried to get into the room would be met with hurricane-force winds.

In his wheelchair, Suigetsu kept a watch at the window, though he seemed distracted by something. When he noticed her staring, he took a deep breath. “One of my cousins is here,” he said the words softly, almost like he wasn’t sure they were the right words. “Distant cousin, but I think I can still feel the connection.”

Tayuya stood and crossed the room to stand next to him. Speaking without words was difficult, but she’d had a long while to get used to it. Once they finally made it home, to whatever home they would have, she was going to need to learn sign language of some kind. Instead of trying at the moment, however, she tilted her head.

“I can feel an increase in the water in the air,” Suigetsu explained. “If it’s who I think it is, then he brings water with him like a storm cloud brings rain.

Like a guard, they sat together at the window, watching as a fine mist built up along the glass. It was like watching rain fall excruciatingly slowly, each drop forming over the course of several minutes. Vigilant, watchful, they waited together.

Behind them, Temari kept an eye on their backs, making sure nothing entered the room while they watched.

 

X

 

There was something to be said for being a Drider.

Often it came with health issues, came with transportation problems and ill-fitting clothes, but there were some benefits. His silk was stronger than most metal, could be used to build bridges and keep things suspended until it broke down. His ancestors had lived in trees, had built entire cities far above the ground where predators could not reach them.

Jiroubo’s family was something to keep safe.

The boy he had loved, had grown up knowing and loving and wanting to keep alive, had never been far from his thoughts. His family had immediately accepted their son befriending a Drider, had never questioned how wise it was or how dangerous it might be.

The fact that they listened to him and Jiroubo when the noises out in the hallway had turned threatening was a good thing.

They had allowed him to web over the door, allowed him to spin silk enough to outlast anything trying to intrude for a week. There had been no hesitance, no disbelief – they had simply listened to him. They had reminded him why he had stayed silent in his love of Jiroubo.

If things had gone wrong, if his affection hadn’t been returned, it might have languished in awkwardness and he would have lost an entire group of people he had grown up being fond of.

Jiroubo stood at his side, clutching his hand tightly.

They stood as a united front, reveling in the still so-new version of the relationship, ready to defend their family. Kidomaru was feeling like his skin was crawling, like he was going to rip it off and escape into the wilderness without it.

The nub where his leg had once been was itching like crazy, the site of the damage oddly warm.

The psychopath who had imprisoned them had ripped it off about a week and a half before they had been rescued, had mentioned something about testing a theory. Testing the will to survive, the ability to heal and thrive, that a Drider might have if damaged that badly.

Despite having seen others of his blood relations die from a much less grisly injury, he felt ready to take on the world and win.

Though that might have had something to do with Jiroubo’s hand, entwined with his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter so we can get back to that sweet sweet hallway action.


	20. Of Soulmates And Family

Her fury screamed along his veins.

She stood within reach, they had never wanted to be separated out after what had been done to them, and he could feel her fury as his own. His was hers, as well, a weapon wielded by the both of them.

Two and a half days had been almost enough, when paired with the ability to wander around someplace that wasn’t the lab they had been trapped in. Almost enough to get his mind back, to bring him back to himself. To bring them back, to bring their minds back. Konan always had held herself together more than he had – his original magic, his Adept skill, had been the ability to separate himself into different pieces. Be in several places at once – he remembered that much. Everything had been stripped away, but he remembered that much.

Konan had always functioned so much better than him.

She had been the one who held together under stress, had been strong under the pressures of school and developing magical abilities. He had been a wreck at times and he had loved her for how strong, how much of an anchor she had been.

When she had fallen apart, those rare occasions, he had been there to help her. To help her gather her pieces and sit upright again.

His mind snapped back to the present as a bolt of energy whipped around his hands. He remembered why he had stopped focusing in the first place: his little cousin was injured. Naruto was curled on the ground, seeming so little for the first time in so long. The asshole that had run the Upstairs was smug, Nagato could smell it on him. Could smell the blood, see the face of the one who had trapped them.

Could see the terror in his eyes as he held a hand to his neck and watched his partner.

Zetsu stood just beyond them, watching Madara with wide eyes, clarity in them that Nagato had never seen before.

Not Madara?

He watched the two of them, focused on each other, and he raised his head. The air smelled like fear, like blood and sweat, anger, terror, and so many other things. But beyond that, beyond all of that, he could smell something that reminded him of Konan.

A bond.

He and Konan were bonded, Bonded, in something that approached a Soulmate Bond. An imitation of one, at any rate, one that Madara had muttered about sometimes – about how he would be able to choose soulmates, choose who affections ran strong for. The proper spouse choices for someone of his lineage. Nagato had never quite known the context for that, had always been somewhat confused by what had seemed to be the ramblings of an insane man.

The way Zetsu watched Madara, however, the scent in the air that seemed to tie them together…

Nagato struck out, deflecting Konan’s attack when she moved to slit the throat of Madara, her eyes wild and filled with fury. The brightness of them, the color that had always reminded him of the wildest seas, was overwhelming when he met them.

Her hand curled into his, her fury draining away as she looked at him.

He had never interfered if she had chosen to slap someone with her powers, before. Had never thought to interfere. She had been too busy, before, hadn’t heard the snatches of conversation – when he looked up, he saw why.

“His name is Danzo,” one of the newly arrived vampires spoke up quietly. He crouched down next to Naruto, his hands pressed over the fae’s, pushing tightly over the hole in Nagato’s cousin. “Trust me, I know it’s confusing, but that,” he nodded towards Madara. “Is a man named Obito. He’s my cousin – _Our_ cousin,” he glanced at the other vampire, the one that looked like him. “Madara was his relative who decided he hated Obito’s soulmate.”

“You heard?” Nagato crouched down, putting a hand on his cousin’s shoulder. “Couldn’t hear, couldn’t concentrate.” He shuddered, Konan’s hand still holding his other one. “Couldn’t focus. Busy.”

“Danzo is an insane jackass,” the vampire nodded. “And he steals powers. If you attack him right now,” he glanced at Danzo, but Nagato saw no new threat. The man was posed between Obito and Zetsu, saying something to Haku. There was a merman as well, and Nagato had no idea when he had arrived. “Obito will die with him.”

“Danzo needs to die,” Konan almost purred the words out, joining them on the floor. “He harmed us, tore parts of us apart.”

“And he will,” the vampire’s hands twitched. “But please, give us a minute.” He looked at the other vampire again. “Itachi.”

“Sasuke,” Itachi crouched down next to them as well, glancing back up towards the merman. At the other end of the hall, the werewolves of Danzo’s pack snarled and snapped at the air. There were so many less of them than Nagato remembered, barely even a dozen, if that.

Still enough to start a minor war.

Sasori moved in closer as well, his eyes a bloody red and pinned on the wolves. They weren’t approaching, were awaiting orders, but he still watched them warily. “We are going to have a problem if they decide not to wait any longer,” he muttered. “Itachi?”

“Kisame?” Itachi looked up at the merman and Nagato felt something in the air shift, the taste of the sea on his tongue.

Kisame nodded, glancing at someone as they approached on the other side. Haku stood there, with one of the ones Nagato had scented earlier. Deidara had mentioned him, someone to help rehabilitate the fae-turned-vampire.

Speaking of Deidara, the other werewolf snarled, his teeth bared in a bloodthirsty grin, as he moved forward.

 

X

 

The wave of water caught her off-guard.

Nagato’s hand was still clasped in hers, still clutching tightly like he was reaffirming the bond that had tied them together in so many ways. He was her anchor and she was his, literally and figuratively, as the water swept over all of them, flaring past them and whirling around Danzo.

She had been paying more attention than Nagato, her sweet Nagato, whose mind had been tossed across the entirety of existence when they had each been half-ripped out of their bodies.

Madara had possessed Obito, Danzo had tortured them all in the name of making himself more powerful. Naruto lay on the floor, bleeding still, with the hands of a fae and a vampire on him. Kurama seemed to have his tails full, dealing with the poison that Danzo had struck them with. The vampire seemed unwilling to move away, spoke to Sasori as a friend – a member of his Grouping? – and the one that looked like him seemed to be acting as a protector.

Sasuke and Itachi, she had gathered.

The one controlling the water was Kisame, the other merman apparently having known him well enough to guide Haku into trusting him.

The water came to a sudden halt, frozen in a smooth, glasslike form around Danzo’s head. The man was still struggling, his fingers clawing at the shape that had suddenly robbed him of the ability to breathe. More and more spots of blood appeared on his clothing, both Itachi and Sasuke looking furious.

Obito, however, just seemed horrified.

The blood that Danzo had stolen from him, had locked them together with, turned into ice crystals and flaked off of his hand. As they dropped to the floor, Obito stumbled, hissing out a curse, and nearly fell as well before Zetsu rushed forward and caught him. Behind her, she could still hear her paper creatures fluttering around, slicing across the nose of any of Danzo’s wolves that dared to step forward.

She’d had her hands full keeping them away, keeping them back.

There were more outside, she could smell them, but they didn’t matter right now. The blood in the air made her certain that they were no longer a concern.

Deidara was curled against Sasori’s chest, his claws digging into the vampire’s shirt. Haku was swept into the protective hold of the merman-vampire-whoever, his back turned against the onslaught of the ice storm that had formed in the hallway. Nagato had stepped in front of her, pressing their cheeks together so that neither of them risked shrapnel to the eyes.

Kisame had his arms flung out to either side, shielding Itachi.

Even Sai was tucked under Yamato’s arm, pressed against his side. His snout was shoved into the fae’s armpit, almost like a child afraid to watch what was happening.

Her breath caught as she glanced down at Naruto, however, and saw the vampire who had been helping heal him curled and bent over him, a living shield. The shards of ice in his back, like knives, would have slid home directly in Naruto’s skull.

As the storm died down, she dropped to the floor, checking first on Sasuke, then Naruto. Yamato reacted to her being suddenly there, rearing up and nearly attacking before he saw who it was.

What surprised her was that Sasuke suddenly sat up, his hand clamping around her wrist.

“I am his pack,” she whispered, meeting those bloody red eyes.

Slowly, he unclenched his fist, letting her go and nodding.

A piercing howl went through the air as Danzo finally stopped twitching, his body hanging limp from the block of ice Haku had encased his entire head in. The wolves seemed to try and surge forward for a moment before they started whimpering and running away. Konan lifted her head, petting gently at Naruto’s hair, as she smelled a scent she had not known for so long.

Over a decade, actually.

It had not been nearly as strong back then, her senses had been human and limited, but she still knew the scent of that perfume. The quiet hum of a lullaby followed after it, the same one she had always hummed to help her son sleep at night.

The lightning that filled the hallway, catching every single piece of metal, was familiar as well.

Konan had only ever seen Kushina Uzumaki angry enough to do that once before. A man had tried to break into their house, had threatened her, her son, and her nephew.

Kushina had been _furious._

The police had been called and the attacker had fairly fled into their hold, scrambling to get away from someone he had made the mistake of targeting. The entire house had been lit up with lightning while a still-rage-filled Kushina had clutched Naruto to her, holding him on her hip.

He had been about five or six at the time.

“That is someone you need to let through,” Konan breathed the words out, catching the attention of both Sasuke and Yamato. Nagato crouched down at her side, his hand finding hers. “That is his mother,” she continued after a moment.

The lightning balled up and around the wolves, penning them in. A ball of water and air forced them further into the pen and Kushina stepped into view as she closed it off. The air crackled with power as Minato stepped up behind her, a hand held out. The look on his face was harder to read until he turned his head and saw them sitting there. Despite the distance between them, Konan could see Minato’s eyes go wide and almost afraid, his hand catching his wife’s shoulder and shaking gently to focus her attention.

Kushina turned her head as well, her hands flying up to cover her mouth.

Konan watched her shoulders hitch, sobs shaking her frame, before she broke out into a sprint and dropped to the floor beside them. Her hands were shaking as she reached out and cupped Nagato’s cheek in her palm, her other hand finding Konan’s face.

“You two,” she breathed the words out, tears trailing down her face. “The _both of you!”_

“Naruto,” Nagato leaned into his aunt’s hand, his eyes closing. “He needs to be healed. There is poison.”

Kushina turned, her mouth dropping open. Her next couple of breaths were short, panicked, before she turned and looked at her husband. “Minato!” he looked up, pulling his face out of his hands, then saw where she was pointing. Just the same as she had, he broke into a sprint down the forty feet of hallway and dropped to his knees next to her. “It’s him, it’s our _son!”_ Kushina reached for Naruto’s head, trembling fingers brushing his hair out of his eyes.

“He’s been poisoned,” Yamato spoke up. “I do not know what with, but I think I have him somewhat stabilized for now.”

“Good,” Minato leaned forward, putting his hands over the hole in his son’s stomach. “I can do the rest.”

Water flowed out around his fingers, sinking into the wound. When it reappeared, there were dark traces in it, whatever poison Danzo had filled him with coming out slowly. “What happened to him?” Minato asked as he worked, his jaw clenched.

A doctor, Konan remembered. At one of the bigger hospitals an hour and a half away from their home.

He was trying to keep it impersonal, trying to keep himself focused.

“A demon was shoved into his head,” Yamato answered. “Kyuubi, he sometimes called it. Kurama, as well.” He watched as Naruto’s entire body seemed to relax, his breathing coming easier. “We have grown fond of him, in the time we have been alongside him. He managed to give us hope, of a sort.”

“That’s my boy,” Kushina murmured, reaching out to pull Nagato and Konan closer to her, giving them each a moment to pull away. They went willingly, resting their heads on her shoulders.

They didn’t have to be the adults, now, they could let someone else protect them.

Konan tangled both of her hands with Nagato’s, sighing softly as she closed her eyes. Her instincts weren’t ruffling at Kushina handling them both – she felt a soft wave of contentment from somewhere deep inside of her, like their actual pack leader had returned.

Family.

This, she remembered, was what it was like.

Someone caring if you lived or died, standing beside you and helping you when things seemed dire. Someone you could ask for help, someone you weren’t afraid of. Those in the lab, they had become family too, much more than the somewhat contained number she had grown used to when Nagato had introduced her to his.

When she opened her eyes, she could see Sasuke curled against Itachi’s legs, the other vampire reaching down to pat gently at his hair.

 _Family,_ Konan thought, closing her eyes again.

Danzo was dead.

Maybe now, the nightmare would be over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh...Hi Naruto's parents! How're y'all doing?
> 
> Sorry I've been away for a while. Work is eating me.


	21. Calm The Rising Tides

He could tell the moment the fighting outside was over by the way Gaara’s shoulders dropped.

For a minute, he was terrified of asking the demon vessel what had happened – had their people lost? Had the people attacking won? – but then Gaara turned to look at him with a soft smile. The brightness in his eyes was enough to make Neji smile as well, a small thing that would need time to recover with the rest of him. “I think we can leave the room, now,” Gaara stood up from his perch by the window, hesitating at the foot of Neji’s bed. “Do you want to?”

“I think being at least settled into a wheelchair at the door would be preferable to not being able to see what is happening out there,” Neji shrugged one of his shoulders, watching as Gaara nodded before turning on his heel.

The wheelchair was easy enough to pull out, set up, and Gaara was helping him transfer into it when the door opened slowly.

Both of them stopped, staring at it.

It was not the slow-opening of someone trying to sneak inside; rather, it was the slow opening of someone who was focusing on something else as they moved, listening to something as the attempted to make their way through a task. When the door fully opened, Neji felt his heart almost skip a beat, excited and terrified all at once.

His father was standing in front of him.

Neji’s imprisonment was a fraction of the time that someone like Naruto had been held captive, he knew that, but in that moment it felt like it had been an eternity. Hizashi Hyuuga stood in the doorway of the hospital room, his hand still curled around the doorknob, and his eyes wide as he stared at Neji. “Father,” Neji inclined his head a fraction, clasping his hands together in his lap. “I—”

He didn’t get to finish his thought, even, before his father had moved quickly across the room and pulled him into a hug so tight that he thought his spine might crack.

“ _Neji,_ ” His father’s voice cracked on his name. Never before had he seen him so distraught. The Hyuuga upbringing had been a distant relationship between children and their parents: his father had been a good man, a good role model, while he had been younger. His grandfather’s mindset had been the ruling one for as long as Neji could remember. An emotional outburst over a missing son, the firstborn of the second born at that, would have been reprimanded.

When his father pulled away, Neji could see tears trailing down his face, his hands shaking. “You’re _alive,_ ” His father patted his shoulder, like he was trying to make certain Neji was real. “I thought you had died – I thought that I had sent you to your death, I was _certain_ of it.” A sob ripped through him, choking his voice. “I was certain of it.”

His own breath caught in his throat and Neji shook his head. “I was targeted,” he shook his head again, trying as best he could to wipe the tears away as they fell. “Uncle told me that grandfather—”

“Your grandfather has been ousted from the company,” Hizashi’s voice sharpened just a fraction and Neji blinked a couple of times. His father had been frustrated with his own father, that was something Neji had always known, but the outright anger was a new thing. “He kept me from launching a search party for you for the entire time you were away. He actively held back reports I tried to make to the police, always with the excuse that you were not worth finding.” He shook his head as well, blinking away a few more tears. “You are my son,” he whispered. “And you are worth _everything_ to me. I would have quit working for my father if Hiashi had not intervened before my decision could reach his ears.”

Neji pinched his lips together, managing to hold back a sob for a moment before he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around him. “ _Dad,”_ he choked the word out.

His father’s arms squeezed a little tighter, both of them falling into silence for a time.

“Do you know what is happening out there?” Gaara eventually broke the silence, leaning against the end of the bed Temari had been in. Far enough away to fade into the background, close enough to defend them if he had to.

“Ah,” Hizashi leaned back, brushing more tears off his face, then looked at Gaara. “A somewhat organized group of parents arrived all at once. There was a naga outside, he seemed upset over something happening in here despite the injuries on his own body. I know there is a corpse out in the hallway,” he gestured to the door. “But I know that none of the ones who were harmed before have been harmed again, except for a young man named Naruto.”

“What happened to him?” Neji found himself saying, his chest going tight at the thought of the blond demon vessel possibly dying. Naruto had been, often, the one who had made sure he got as much food as possible, had made sure he hadn’t broken down, had made sure he hadn’t frozen to death.

“He was stabbed,” His father frowned. “Although, from what I hear, the one who did the stabbing is the one who ended up dead. He is with his own parents, now – the last I saw, the three of them were clustered up in the hallway, with the others of the family close by.”

“But he is safe?” Gaara glanced towards the door. “I am going to check on him, but I will still be close by,” he patted Neji’s shoulder as he walked past.

Hizashi watched him go, his eyes sliding back to Neji like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “I thought I had directly led to your death,” he whispered after a minute of silence between them. “I was too far away, I was too busy, I had signed you up for the wrong classes, the wrong school – I didn’t know you had been taken until I came home two days later. It is no excuse, not in the slightest, but your grandfather always pushed us to work harder. I kept promising myself, promising you, I would come home and spend time with you, check in on your classes and your activities.” He looked down at his hands, clasped together in his lap. “And when no ransom note came, I thought you might have run away.”

“That seems to have been the preferred method of capture of one of the two,” Neji chewed at the inside of his lip. “There were two kidnappers, both of them running insane experiments on the people they had gathered together.”

“…Experiments?” his father had gone even paler than usual, his eyes wide. The spark of terror in his eyes was enough to make Neji lean forward and put his hand on his father’s wrist. “What sort of experiments?”

“Still trying to figure out the end results,” Neji shrugged. “But I know I am a much stronger Seer, these days. I will have to look into classes for controlling such a thing, but I will send the teachers through backgrounds checks.” He winced at how accusatory the words sounded, coming out of his mouth.

Hizashi winced as well, staring down at his hands, putting one of them over Neji’s, where it still lay over his wrist. “There are so many things I should have done.” He whispered. “So many things I should have done to protect you, so many things I should have looked into. The teacher I signed you up for came highly recommended, I should not have trusted in the reviews and the –”

“What teacher?” Neji frowned, leaning forward in the wheelchair.

“Danzo Shimura,” his father frowned. “Up until recently, I had assumed that your disappearance was a kidnapping plot for the sake of a ransom that never came. When there was no note, when I found out that others of various bloodlines and powers had gone missing as well, my attention was drawn to other suspects. Until I arrived here, I had no idea as to the scope of the missing. The son of Minato Namikaze and Kushina Uzumaki?” he put a hand to his face. “This is going to be a nightmare to sort out—”

“Danzo is the one who did this.”

With a rattling breath, Hizashi raised his head again, his eyes wide. “What?”

“Danzo is the one who did this to us,” Neji looked down at his hands. “At least, he ran the Upstairs. The experiments that focused on testing the bodily limits of the people he kidnapped. I was quickly rejected for those experiments because my powers were, seemingly, limited to being a Seer.”

“We never—” Hizashi’s hands clenched into fists. “We never looked into him.” The dawning horror on his father’s face was enough to make Neji reach out to comfort him. “He was questioned, to see if you had made contact with him before your disappearance, but he maintained that you had not and there was never anything that would have made us suspect him of anything else. He had alibis for every day, was in the middle of lessons when he was questioned. Whenever he was questioned.” He squeezed Neji’s hand, his own trembling. “Hanabi was due to begin lessons with him. Next week. My father signed her up because he knew Danzo Shimura to be the best teacher available.”

Taking a deep breath that he nearly choked on in the middle, Neji nodded. “Don’t send her. Don’t let her go.”

A knock on the door caught their attention and Neji looked up to see Gaara standing there. “You two should see this,” he gestured out into the hall.

They followed him out.

 

X

 

If he could just make it through this without any more big surprises, Kankuro thought, he was going to go home and pass out for a week.

The vampire-and-something-else duo stood against a wall, Zabuza’s hand on Haku’s shoulder as he kept the younger from falling to the floor. The amount of power Haku had expended was a little terrifying, though unreasonably controlled for how quickly he’d had to change and how little time he’d had to get used to it. Strong fae genetics, Kankuro supposed. More of it remaining after being Turned than anyone had suspected.

A Court switch was extremely uncommon, but not unheard of, and a vampire-to-fae switch would make more sense in the Unseelie Court, the Court of Winter.

Ice powers.

Oh, he might have hit his head on something. He was focusing too closely on one detail, the rest of his mind blurring.

Shaking his head, Kankuro turned to look at Sasori, his cousin still holding Deidara protectively. The werewolf wasn’t trying to get away, either, his claws digging into Sasori’s sides. They seemed to be okay. The rest of Sasori’s Grouping seemed to be okay. With a glance around the hallway, Kankuro spotted a couple of people he didn’t recognize, curled around Naruto and his cousin, Konan cuddled against someone’s chest. That was a family put together, he could recognize that.

A burningly hot hand landed on his forehead and his mind snapped into clarity.

There was a couple of alarms blaring around them, the grunts and howls of the werewolves down the hall mixing into a painful background noise. The scent of blood filled the air and Kankuro turned to look at Gaara. His little brother managed a small smile, jerking his head towards the others. “So you hit a wall,” he said as they walked together. “And passed out.”

“Well, I think it was a little more involved than that—”

“You knocked yourself unconscious by slamming into a wall while fighting a werewolf,” Gaara continued on like he hadn’t said anything. He clapped a hand on Kankuro’s shoulder, amusement flashing in his eyes. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“…Is everyone else?”

“Well,” Gaara stopped just past the congregated people in the hallway, glancing at Naruto. “Naruto was stabbed and poisoned. And this,” he rapped a knuckle against the block of ice seeming to hang midair, holding up the corpse it wrapped around the head of. “Is Danzo. He’s apparently one of the people who did this to all of them.”

Kankuro felt his stomach turn over at the sight of thin, bloody-looking lines on the man’s arms and neck. “What caused all of the cuts?”

“They’re not cuts,” Zetsu was curled against the wall with someone pressed against his chest, one of his hands tangled in their hair. He looked exhausted but so much more alert than he had been the last time Kankuro had seen him. “Open one of them.” When Kankuro put a finger to the edge of one, Zetsu nodded.

The skin pulled back easily, exposing a blood red eye.

It was clouded, unseeing, but there was something disturbing about it, something that made Kankuro’s stomach turn again. The urge to throw up rose and he let go of the eyelid-like skin. “What the fuck?”

“Stolen from an entire clan of Uchiha’s,” a softer voice, an _exhausted_ voice, came from the vicinity of Zetsu’s chest. “My family died so that he could try and gain something like immortality. He killed so many of them, trying to keep himself alive forever. He could have become a vampire, but that would have meant a weakness in daylight. There are any number of species he could have chosen to pursue, but he decided to alter his own genetics and steal the powers of others.”

They levered themself off of Zetsu’s chest, still clutching tightly at the vampire’s shirt. The first impression Kankuro got was that he was looking at Itachi.

The second was that the man looked devastated over something.

“My grandfather was insane and hated us for something we could no more control than you could avoid blinking,” the man smiled, the edges of it cracked and worn. Happiness was something he would have to relearn, it seemed. The air between his chest and Zetsu’s flickered, a faint golden line dissipating into the air for a moment before the man frowned and closed his eyes.

The golden line nearly sizzled as it appeared, this time, a bond between the two of them. A Soulmate Bond.

Kankuro had never seen an actual Bondline, before. He’d heard about Soulmate Bonds, had come across casefiles about them, but he’d never seen one in person before. “Holy shit,” he muttered, watching the golden line wrap around the two of them. It looked like a snake, in some ways, curling around their wrists and finding a home in their chests, wrapping around them more and more the longer he watched. It was like the Bond had a mind of its own, like it was trying to make up for something.

The man laughed, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks, before he nodded and shoved his face back into Zetsu’s neck.

The golden Bond still flared out around them, seeming to glow brighter.

Kankuro knew, then, that no matter how long he lived, he would never see something quite as beautiful as the sight before him. Two people reunited and safe again, bound together in a way that had nothing to do with legality and everything to do with being the absolute best match for each other. Soulmates were rare, hard to find in the pages of history books and even harder to find in real life.

Zetsu’s hand returned to the man’s hair and he tucked his own face into his Soulmate’s neck, curling down and around him like he wanted to press them so close together they became one person.

With a clearing of his throat, Gaara’s hand wrapped around Kankuro’s wrist.

They both moved towards Sasori, watching their cousin run his hands through Deidara’s hair, brushing it out. The werewolf seemed to be dozing on his shoulder, one hand cupped loosely over his elbow. “Stay here,” Gaara told him, settling him on the floor. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

When he returned, it was with Neji and a man that looked so much like him it couldn’t be anyone but his father.

Kankuro had met his uncle – this one looked the same but smelled different.

There were many things, it seemed, that had been put right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh...How about them Supernatural Monster children? Killed a man and kept each other safe and now there's a big extended family network of them that's going to go nuclear if any of them are threatened.
> 
> I'm getting close to wrapping this bit up. Interesting fact: At this point in the timeline, Hidan still hasn't met Kakuzu.

**Author's Note:**

> So. 
> 
> I would like to point out, this part of the story is going to get interesting. There will be connections between people and I would _absolutely_ like to point out that some of the pairings are going to start developing here and not continue on until everything is okay. Naruto has been a captive since he was nine. The kid has not had anything remotely resembling a normal life and he never got his last years of Elementary, let alone Middle or High school. 
> 
> Others are similar. 
> 
> Keep in mind, some of these characters are going to be written as immortal.


End file.
